Innocent Insult
by tinuelena
Summary: She went to teach him a lesson, but he had other ideas. Once Draco's father and the Dark Lord find out, just how much will they have to sacrifice to stay together? Warning: BDSM and nonconsensual sex. Pre-HBP.
1. Chapter 1

"Bloody hell, you've got to be kidding me," groaned Ron Weasley, eyes upon the group of Slytherins gathered around Draco Malfoy. They were hanging on his every word-- he was telling them all how Harry Potter had tried to kill him in the Shrieking Shack recently, but Professor Snape had come to the rescue.

"See that scrape on his arm?" Draco was saying, pointing across the room to where Harry and his friends were sitting. "That's from where he fell on the ground at my feet, begging Snape and me for mercy."

The Slytherins laughed hysterically at the notion of the great Harry Potter mewling at their hero's feet. They were loving it.

Harry quickly covered his arm and turned back to his friends.

"Quidditch accident, wasn't it?" Hermione looked at him intently.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Got too close to the ground in practice."

She shook her head, her lips pursed. "One day he'll get what's coming to him."

"Hopefully," said Ron, gathering his books. "I'm off to class."

"Me too," Harry said, joining Ron. "See you later, Hermione."

"See you," she returned, watching them go. She tried concentrating on her essay, but it was no use. Draco was still telling stories to a few of the Slytherins as they left for their next class, and she was fuming. How dare he?

Hardly realizing what she was doing, Hermione slammed her book shut and marched over to the Slytherin first-years. She chose Gwendolyn Miller, a slight blonde girl who was on the borderline of becoming a Hufflepuff during the Sorting Ceremony.

Gwendolyn looked up. "Yes?"

Hermione glowered at her. "Give me the Slytherin password," she demanded.

"No!" She was taken aback, surprised that anyone should ask such a thing, especially Hermione, the goody-two shoes of Hogwarts.

"Tell me or I'll turn Pearl into a disgusting little rat," she threatened, pointing her wand at Gwendolyn's beloved cat.

Gwendolyn gathered Pearl in her arms. "You wouldn't!"

"I would. Now tell me."

She sneered. "Toad candles."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "What kind of password is that?" She fiercely regarded the little girl. "You'd best not be lying."

She held Pearl protectively. "I'm not."

Satisfied, Hermione nodded and stalked off, grabbing her books and heading off to her last class of the day. She sat through the lecture, scribbling notes in a furious scrawl, imagining what she was going to say to Draco when she caught him in the Slytherin house later that night. She was still furious about what he said about Harry, how he refused to leave Ron alone about his hand-me-downs, how he called her-- of all things!-- "Mudblood." By the end of the period, she had worked herself up so much that she barely acknowledged Parvati as she passed her in the hallway, and ignored Fred and George completely as they teased her about her hair when she entered the Gryffindor commonroom. She dropped off her books and marched straight down to the Slytherin wing.

"Toad candles," she spat, and the door swung wide open.

Hermione stepped into the commonroom and was immediately greeted with the sight of Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco standing in the center.

"I've been expecting you," Draco said coolly, staring her in the face.

"I suppose Gwendolyn told you."

"She did."

"Well," Hermione began tersely, her blood boiling, "I just came here to tell you that you are--"

"Shh," Draco hushed her, and cast a silencing spell upon her with a flick of his wrist. She struggled to speak, but no sound would come out. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled to themselves. He shot them a look, and they quieted. Turning his attention back to Hermione, he approached her. "I know what you think about me," he began. "I've heard what you say about me. I think it's time you were taught a lesson." He reached out and stroked her hair. "You know... for a filthy Mudblood, you're really quite beautiful."

Hermione shuddered and turned to run, but Crabbe and Goyle grabbed her and dragged her, struggling, to Draco's chamber. She tried desperately to scream, but she couldn't make a sound. They shackled her to Draco's bed as she flailed and fought.

"You can leave now," Draco instructed. "Stand guard at the door."

His minions bobbed their fat little heads and scurried obediently out of the room.

Another flick of his wrist, and the walls of his chamber were made soundproof; one more flick, and Hermione could speak again.

"How dare you!" She was furious. "Once the Headmistress finds out..."

Draco began disrobing in front of her. "I don't think you'll tell her." He saw that her eyes were shut. "Look at me."

She ignored his command, not wanting to believe this was really happening.

He pointed his wand at her. "Open your eyes, Hermione."

Disgustedly, she did so, and gasped in awe at the sight. _God, he's got a beautiful body,_ she thought, then mentally slapped herself. _Don't think such things. He's a dirty Slytherin. _

He advanced on her, taking care of her clothes with one last flick of his wand. She was suddenly completely naked.

Now it was Draco's turn to stand in awe. _Those breasts,_ he marvelled. _So perfect. _He tried to shake it off. _You're teaching her not to soil your name. This isn't recreation._ But he couldn't help himself. He ran his hand slowly down her body-- over her flawlessly formed chest, past her flat stomach, and stopped on her smooth mound.

Keeping his hand there, he watched her face intently. She was looking away from him again, thinking that this kind of invasion was almost worse than if he had just jumped on and fucked her into oblivion.

"Who do you shave your pussy for?" he asked bluntly. "Is it Weaselby?"

Hermione glared at him. "His name is Weasley," she sneered, "and yes, it is."

"I bet he likes it," Draco said, his hands traveling up, harshly grabbing her chest. "And these, I bet he loves these."

She said nothing.

"You can tell him I love them too," he said dryly, sucking her left nipple into her mouth, nibbling slightly. His other hand kneaded her right breast, then slowly journeyed south, slipping between her folds. She gasped as they both realized how wet she was.

"I can smell you," he whispered, and immediately dropped to put his head between her legs. Eagerly, he put his tongue out to taste her-- God, she tasted good!-- and he ravenously began to eat her out, on a mission to get every last drop of her.

Hermione's eyes flew open. She'd wanted Ron to go down on her for the longest time, but he never would. It was better than she imagined, oh yes, so much better. Even better than when she used her own fingers to do it. Her breathing became faster, her heart rate increased-- she tried to stop herself from making any sounds, tried to stop herself from letting him know she was enjoying it, but she couldn't. Finally, she just gave in.

"Ohh, yes," she moaned, her head tossing on the pillow. His face was buried in her pussy and it felt incredible. She felt herself nearing orgasm, and she desperately hoped he would let her climax. "God... don't stop," she pleaded, her eyes rolling back in her head, "oh, yes, oh... oh God... yes!" Her back arched involuntarily and she came, much to Draco's delight, who thirstily lapped up all her juices.

He wiped his face on the bedsheets and looked up at her. "You enjoyed that," he said simply.

She was caught. "Yes," she replied in a small voice.

"Would you like me inside you?" asked Draco.

Not wanting to hear the word escape her lips, she merely nodded.

"Say it," he told her.

"I want you, Draco."

He climbed on top of her, kneeling, and pointed himself at her opening. "Ready?"

Hermione gave him a strange glance-- she thought she noticed a bit of tenderness in his ice-blue eyes. "Yes."

Draco slammed his enormous length into her so hard that tears came to her eyes. He noticed this at once and sank down so that their chests were touching. He smoothed a lock of hair from her face. "Did that hurt?"

Once again, she was confounded, and her eyes showed it. "Draco?"

And all of a sudden, he felt it hit him like a hammer-- he couldn't do this to her! She was gorgeous, God, she was beautiful, and she was so pure. _Where's your strength, Malfoy, _he chided himself, but it was of no use. He couldn't do it. He collapsed beside her.

"I can't go through with it," he sighed. "I can't."

And Hermione, too, was hit with something. Utter disappointment. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"You're..." He looked her in the eye, but that was even too painful now. "I just can't."

"Why?"

It was like traces of him were disappearing. "I'm sorry for calling you names," he answered softly, avoiding her question. "I'm sorry for teasing Ron. I'm... I'm sorry for making things up about Harry."

"Draco..." A big part of her was longing to reach out to him, but she was still shackled. "Will you let me out of these?"

"Oh. Yeah." He reached for his wand and released her, expecting her to reach for her clothes and run.

Instead, she enveloped him in her arms, gently pushing a section of blond hair from his eyes. "I forgive you."

"You do?"

She nodded. "And you know something?"

He shook his head.

"I'm sorry for coming up here with the intent to curse you," she said. Biting her lip, she tilted his face toward hers. "I think you should punish me."

Draco grinned. "You liked it."

Hermione blushed and nodded.

"Very well," he said, the gleam returning to his eye. With a touch of magic, she was shackled again, and Draco was straddling her.

"Mudblood bitch," he spat, but now she was turned on, not hurt. "You're mine now, mine to do with what I want. Do you understand?"

She nodded, putting on frightened eyes to mask her excitement, and drew in a sharp breath as he forced himself inside of her. "You're extremely wet for a Mudblood bookworm," he snarled, thrusting in and out. "Can you handle all of me?"

Hermione's eyes were watering, but she wanted it. She nodded.

"I suppose it doesn't matter anyway," Draco continued. "You're my slave, bitch." Gripping the bedsheets, he began to pound her ruthlessly. Out of habit, Hermione tried to muffle her screams. "Scream, bitch," Draco commanded. "No one can hear you. Scream."

She let loose with a rippling shriek, her body shocked at the intensity of the pleasure Draco was providing. Her walls pulsed as he slid in and out of her, pleading for release. He didn't let up. "Oh, God, Draco... yes... oh, don't stop..." Her face was twisted into contortions of pleasure, her eyes shut tight. "Draco... oh, yes..." His face was red and his hair was flying as he picked up the pace even more, causing Hermione's eyes to fly open. "Draco!" She was sent into convulsions, a body-racking orgasm. But he wasn't satisfied yet. As Hermione relaxed into a human ragdoll, Draco kept his pace, thrusting into her forcefully. _Ron's never lasted this long,_ she thought briefly, then she reacted again-- another one was on the way. She couldn't move, yet, involuntarily, her legs twitched and her stomach clenched as she soared into a second climax. She screamed and shut her eyes tightly as it took her over, and then she went limp-- but Draco didn't stop. He propelled himself further inside, his face beginning to show the first signs. "Hermione," he whispered, then louder-- "oh God, Hermione!" and suddenly, he came inside of her in a sweet, intense explosion.

Hermione smiled as he collapsed beside her, trying to catch his breath. Not forgetting about her, he lifted his wand-- heavily, as if it weighed a hundred pounds-- and set her free. She giggled and kissed him on impulse.

Draco returned her smile. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"I think I might love you," she admitted blushingly.

Draco smiled. It was the strangest sensation-- all his father's beliefs, all the evil, all the darkness felt as if it had been washed away. In this moment, there was only Hermione. "Is that what this is?"

Hermione laughed again, a bubbling little sound.

"What?"

"To think this all started with an innocent little insult," she said, chuckling.

He grinned and pulled her close.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I know the first few chapters of this is pretty much porn-without-plot, but it gets heavier toward the middle. There are 16 chapters.

"So, I bet you really let her have it, huh?" Crabbe chuckled, nudging Draco. "That'll teach that bitch to go after you. Stupid Mudblood."

"Yeah," Draco replied halfheartedly. He was distracted, watching Hermione and Ron from across the room. Ron had her arm around her, chatting away a mile a minute, while Hermione tried to concentrate on the book she had her nose in. A slight smile spread across Draco's lips-- the girl was always studying. _Her mind must be a veritable library,_ he thought admiringly.

It had been only yesterday that Draco and Hermione went from sworn enemies to secret lovers, but there was already a change in the attitudes of both of them. After their romp in Draco's chamber and the decision to keep their affair a secret, he had ordered Crabbe and Goyle away so that they wouldn't see his goodbye kiss with Hermione, or the tender look in his eyes as he watched her go. On the other hand, Parvati, whom Hermione had ungraciously dismissed earlier, was struck with confusion as she saw Hermione gliding down the hallway, flushed and beaming.

"I just don't see how the professor can expect us to memorize this so quickly," Ron was saying exhaustedly. "I've been over those chapters loads of times, and I still can't tell thistle milk from blancberry juice."

Harry nodded his agreement. "It's ludicrous to demand this kind of work. Potions isn't our only class."

"He doesn't seem to know that," Ron replied listlessly, then shifted his attention to Hermione. "So, you'll never guess what Ginny said to me this morning." A smile played on his face.

Angrily, Hermione slammed her book shut. "Honestly, Ronald, can't you tell I'm trying to study? You're not the only one with homework, you know."

Ron was taken aback. "Sorry."

She let out a puff of air, and gathered her things. "I'll just go to the library." With a flip of her hair, she marched off.

Ron exchanged a confused look with Harry.

"Dunno," he said.

Ron furrowed his brow. "She's been weird all day. I don't understand it." He sighed. "I'm going to go for a walk. I could use some air."

"Sorry," Harry said, as if that could make up for Hermione. "See you."

"See you," Ron returned, and moped off.

Harry opened his book, deciding to work on the daunting task of memorizing two hundred common potion ingredients while he had some alone time. That was short-lived, however, as he was soon joined by Draco.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" came the ungracious greeting.

"Uh, well..." Draco drummed his fingers on the table and looked at his feet. "I just wanted to... uh... apologize. For everything."

Harry was completely surprised. "What?"

"I've been an asshole, and I know it. I know it doesn't make up for anything, but I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry for being on your case all these years."

With no idea what to say, Harry managed one word. "Uh... thanks."

Draco sighed and got to his feet. "Well, I'll see you around."

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Bye."

Parvati, who had been watching this exchange with some interest, knew that something was going on. Hermione's glow in the hallway, Draco's change in behavior, the sudden change in interaction between Ron and Hermione. But before she could put the pieces together, Lavender Brown sat down and began to talk to her. She made a mental note to contemplate this later.

Hermione irritably settled into a chair in the library and opened her textbook to chapter four. She was absorbing information on the origin of the Animagus when Draco sat down at her table, carefully choosing a spot across from her and two chairs away. Immediately, she felt her heart rate rise. Briefly, their eyes met, and as she felt the oncoming wetness, she risked a whisper.

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"I want you. Now."

He suppressed a smile. "It's the middle of the day. There's no safe place."

"Can't we go back to your dormitory?"

"No," Draco said. "The only reason it was empty yesterday is because I warned everyone to leave."

The thought of every Slytherin knowing what Draco planned to do to her made her stomach quiver. "Then... do they all know why?"

"No, no," he said quickly. "Only Crabbe and Goyle."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "Okay."

Colin Creevey passed by then, and the two immediately snapped their heads back to their books.

"Hermione, maybe we should just let everyone know," he offered, once Colin had passed. "Then we wouldn't have to worry about us being seen together. We could talk in public. It would be nice."

"Are you mad? Do you know what that would do to our reputations-- both yours and mine?"

Draco sighed. "I suppose you're right."

"You know I am."

A wry smile crossed his face. "I do want you, though. I want to touch you... kiss you... own you..."

A ripple of excitement coursed through Hermione's veins. She didn't know why, but she liked the idea of being owned. She liked being taken over, being dominated, being completely helpless. "Where can we go, Draco?"

He thought a moment. "Well... we can't Apparate inside the castle, but I've worked around some of Dumbledore's old security before. There's a Portkey in my dormitory."

"To where?"

"My house. And no one should be home."

Hermione brightened. "Really?"

Draco leaned forward. "Tell you what. I know Potter's got an Invisibility Cloak. Go get it, and meet me in the Slytherin commonroom. I'll take you up to my room and we'll be off."

"Alright," she said. "I'm off." Without a second look in his direction, she gathered up her things and started toward the Gryffindor dormitories.

Once she was past the Fat Lady, she looked furtively around the commonroom. The only person around was Neville, and he was busy tending to the assortment of plants he kept in the corner-- he could be there for ages. She held her breath and tiptoed past him, ducking into the boys' dormitories.

She knew right where to go-- she'd snuck in to visit Ron several times before, and if anyone else saw her, that was a likely story. Luckily, no one was lurking about. It was a nice day, and most of the Gryffindors were outside.

Carefully, she peered around the corner to make sure no one was in the room. Once it was clear, she dashed in and went straight for Harry's trunk, rifling through his Muggle clothes, looking for his cloak.

"What a mess," she said out loud, disgustedly parting dirty clothes from clean ones, which were all jumbled together in an unfolded heap. "Oh come on... where is the bloody thing?"

Right then, she heard footsteps, followed by voices.

"I just don't know what's wrong with her." Ron.

"Have you tried talking to her?"

_Shit,_ Hermione thought, _Ron and Neville..._ She was digging like crazy now, chucking parchment and quills aside-- the voices were getting closer...

"She's just out of it lately."

"You know Hermione." Neville was trying to be comforting. "She's probably just worked up about homework or something."

"Yeah... but she's got it all down anyway." A pause. "That'd be like Hermione, though. Getting all fussed about absolutely nothing."

_How dare he?_ She was fuming. Then-- "Aha!" The corner of the cloak caught her eye, and she pulled it right from the trunk over her. And just in time, as Ron and Neville walked in that second.

"What--" Ron stopped short at the sight of Harry's trunk, its contents spilled all over the floor.

"Bloody hell," Neville breathed. "Wonder what happened here?"

"Well if I had to guess, I'd blame Malfoy," Ron sneered. "Isn't he behind everything?"

Hermione smiled. _He'll be behind me soon enough, _she thought, huddled in her corner.

"Well, c'mon," Ron said. "Get that plant and let's go down to Professor Sprout."

Neville took a tall, sickly-looking purple cactus off of his nightstand, and he and Ron exited.

Hermione waited a moment, then threw all Harry's junk back into the trunk and hurried off to the Slytherin commonroom.

"Toad candles," she panted upon arrival, and the door swung open-- it shut with a bang as she stepped inside.

"Whassat?" said Pansy Parkinson, stirring from a nap. "Who just came in here?"

Crabbe was just as confused. "No one did."

Pansy turned on him. "Of course someone did, the door opened, you git."

"Oh, shut up," snapped Draco, who was waiting for Hermione in a wingback chair and knew very well who had just stepped into the room. He rose. "I'm going up to my quarters. No one better come up there until I come out." With a grand gesture, he swept upstairs, closely followed by the invisible Hermione.

Once inside, she took her cloak off and Draco immediately pushed her over onto the bed, climbing over her. "I have half a mind to fuck you right here," he told her, running his hands over her torso and up into her hair. "But my bed at home is so much softer." He nodded toward a small silver shield on the table, his family crest. "Take hold."

Hermione reached out, and before she knew it, she was whirling through the air, one hand on the crest and one hand in Draco's hand. Almost immediately, they had landed outside a giant mansion, pristine white and immense. Sculpted arborvitae flanked the door, surrounded neatly by circles of granite pieces.

"Wow," she breathed. "It's amazing."

Draco smiled. "Come inside. I think you'll like my room."

Hermione followed him through the house, down halls decorated with paintings of the Malfoy ancestors, past rooms embellished with gilded door frames, and through a set of beautiful French doors.

She was dumbfounded. Draco's bed was a four-poster canopy with silver posts in the shape of gently curving snakes, adorned with solid red-and-black curtains. Two red pillar candles atop tall wrought-iron holders stood guard on either side of the bed. Overhead, the ceiling was black, with a simple enchantment to make it look like the night sky. The walls were black as well, with oval windows made of red glass centered on either wall. The cherry-colored light cast a hauntingly beautiful glow over the room, illuminating the fibers in the rich black velvet-like carpet. "It's... gorgeous."

"Yes," he agreed. "Somewhat like a dungeon, don't you think?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked up at Draco. "Yes, Master," she whispered.

Draco grinned devilishly and pushed her hard across the room, sending her stumbling onto his bed. She landed on plush red satin and relished the feel of it on her skin as she crept backwards, pretending that she wanted to escape what Draco was going to do to her.

He sensed it. "You're not going to escape, angel," he cooed, almost sweetly, pulling out his wand. _"Incarcerous!"_ And just that easily, Hermione was tied tightly to the four posts of Draco's bed, struggling.

She put on her mask of fear and loathing immediately, turning away from him. "You're a monster, Malfoy."

He snickered, advancing on her with a smug little smile. "Don't be coy, Granger." He took off his robe, revealing the beautiful body that had bewitched Hermione in the first place-- she couldn't help but look.

"Yes," he encouraged, "stare at me. Worship me. I am your god."

Desire was growing deep within Hermione, but she knew that resisting would only make it more fun. "No," she spat, "you are pathetic."

She felt a hand at her throat, and her head was jerked to the center of the bed. "Look at me, bitch," commanded Draco, drawing his knife from the discarded robe and holding it to her cheek. "I'd hate to cut your pretty face."

Hermione shuddered at the touch of the cold metal, and felt herself grow increasingly wetter as he caressed her face with the blunt side of the blade and slid it slowly down, down... he reached her robes and slowly slashed open the front with the utmost precision. Next he moved for the sleeves, slicing through the fabric. With one quick motion, he pulled her ruined robes from beneath her and hurled them across the room.

Still bound by the ropes, she began to squirm. She felt deliciously exposed now, completely at Draco's mercy, victim to whatever violence he could commit.

"That's it, angel," he whispered, coming down upon her, breathing into her ear. He nibbled on her earlobes. "You like that, don't you? Oh, yes."

She jerked her head away. "I hate you."

Roughly, he seized her chin. "You're my property. You'll love me, and you'll like it, because I say you will."

"I'll do nothing of the sort."

"Oh, really?" He leapt off the bed with ease, disappeared into his closet, and emerged with a roll of duct tape and a leather belt. Hermione's eyes grew wide.

"Hate to do this, angel, but your big mouth is beginning to annoy." He ripped off a piece of duct tape, forced her mouth shut, and slapped it over her lips. Smiling devilishly, he folded the belt in two and brought it down against her pelvis.

"This pussy is mine," he growled, running his fingers possessively over her lacy panties. He grabbed her harshly, and she squealed. Hermione knew he'd felt how soaking wet she was through the thin fabric, and noticed the tent in his boxers. She longed to reach for it, but her hands were bound tightly to the posts. She made a muffled sound, looking longingly in his direction.

Draco knew what she wanted, and her reward was a harsh smack across the face with the belt. She screamed, feeling the pain and translating it into pleasure. "Bitch," he spat, "you'll have my cock when I want you--"

Suddenly, the door burst open, and in strode Lucius Malfoy. His eyes darted from Draco to Hermione and back to his son. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Uh..." Draco was caught off guard.

_This isn't for pleasure,_ Hermione willed him to say, while pretending like she wanted nothing more than Lucius to let her out of her bondage and send her on her way. She made her eyes huge and frightened.

Lucius took several brisk steps toward his son, seizing him roughly by the arm and escorting him to the corner of the room. "Think of your lineage, Draco, if nothing else," he said in a harsh whisper. "And don't you forget who she is, either. Mudblood Gryffindor. Harry Potter's wench. You hate her."

Draco straightened. "Don't think for an instant that this means something to me, Father. She's being taught a lesson."

Reluctant to believe this, Lucius regarded his son sternly. "What did she do?" he asked curtly.

"Umm..." His thoughts darted around. What was he going to say? Then he remembered how this had all began. "She came to Slytherin house to try and set a curse on me."

Lucius seemed impatient. "Couldn't you have just killed her?"

"I thought it better to teach her a lesson that she could live to tell the rest of the Gryffindors about. Besides, death would be the quick and easy way. She'll have to live with knowing this happened to her for the rest of her sick and pathetic Mudblood life."

"Yes," Lucius said slowly, "I see your strategy. Carry on, then." And without a second look at Hermione, he walked out of the room.

As soon as he had gone, Draco turned and sat beside Hermione on the bed, touching his wand to her ropes and removing the duct tape from her mouth. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I had no idea he was going to be here."

"I know," she comforted, shaking the ropes off of her wrists. "That was a brilliant excuse, Draco."

He shook his head. "Excuses aren't going to keep saving us. Something like this is bound to happen again." He sighed. "I think we're going to have to end it, Hermione."

She sat up and put her arms around him. "I don't want to end it."

"Neither do I, but what choice do we have?"

A small smile came over her lips. "It's not like both of us haven't broken any rules before," she said. "What's one more going to hurt?"

"We're going against my father, your friends, my friends, hell, even Hogwarts tradition. I've never heard of a Slytherin ending up with a Gryffindor in my life."

_Ending up with? What's on his mind?_

"Uh, I mean... dating," Draco quickly corrected, seeing the expression on Hermione's face.

Hermione nodded. After that, she was too confounded to think straight. She ran her fingers seductively down his side and leaned close to his ear. "You know, Draco, your father thinks I'm being punished right now. You best make me make some noise."

The evil grin reappeared on his face, and with a couple flicks of his wrist, Hermione was bound again. He didn't bother with the duct tape this time.

"Come, angel," he whispered devilishly, his eyes flashing as he cut the straps of Hermione's bra with his knife and ripped her panties apart. He pointed himself at her opening. "Scream for me."

And scream she did, as Draco drilled her hard into the bed. But not for mercy, because she knew that would never come.

She'd found heaven in the house of Slytherin.


	3. Chapter 3

"Padma, have you noticed anything about Hermione lately?" The Patil sisters were sitting together in their dormitory, sitting on Parvati's bed, doing each other's hair.

Padma arched her eyebrows. "No," she replied. "Why? Have you?"

Her sister sighed and flipped a section of Padma's hair over her shoulder. "Yeah. Okay, this is going to sound mean, but remember how her face was? Pinched a lot, and always so bent on concentration?"

"Yeah..."

"Well now everytime I see her she's got this glow on her face. And yesterday..." She paused, unsure if she should continue.

"Go on," Padma urged.

"Yesterday, I saw Draco Malfoy _apologize_ to Harry."

Padma whirled around. "Apologize? What?"

"Your _hair_, Padma," Parvati reproved.

"Sorry," she replied, and turned around again. "Now what's this?"

"He came up to Harry and apologized for "being on his case all these years." That's exactly what he said."

"That's weird," mused Padma. "But what has that got to do with Hermione?"

"When I went to class this morning, you know Hermione's my desk partner... well when Malfoy walked in, I swear I saw him smile at her. And I _swear,_ Padma, she smiled back."

Padma whirled around again. "Are you telling me that you think Hermione's got it for Malfoy? She's dating Ron!"

Parvati threw up her hands in frustration. "Honestly, how am I supposed to do your hair with you flinging around like this."

"Well sorry," Padma said, "but do you hear yourself? You're saying Hermione Granger, Gryffindor prefect, has something going on with _Malfoy?"_

"I know it sounds crazy," agreed Parvati. "But what else could all this mean?"

"Maybe Malfoy just had an attack of conscience," Padma suggested, turning back around.

Parvati combed out the braids she had began with her fingers and started over. "That's as mental as what I just said."

"Yeah," sighed her sister. "But if it's true... what does that mean?"

Parvati's voice became grim. "You know where Malfoy's heart lies," she said slowly. "If Hermione really loves him, we'll lose her. We'll lose her to the Dark Mark, the Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself-- because that's all Malfoy stands for."

"God... yes... oh, Draco, fuck me! Oh, yes... yes..."

This time, they'd snuck out of their dormitories after everyone had gone to sleep and made their way up to the Astronomy Tower. Draco had worked the same spell on the walls of the Tower that he'd worked on his room so no one could hear Hermione scream as he pounded her. And she was definitely screaming, so loud that if there was no spell on the walls, the whole school would have come running to see what was going on.

Her face was bright red, her eyes flying open and closed. Draco was holding her legs up at just the right angle, slamming into her with force. And she was flailing with all her might, trying to get away, her body telling her that the sensation was too intense.

But Draco was too strong for her, and gripped her ankles even tighter, watching her face intently as she let out a piercing shriek and her eyes rolled back in her head-- she was tense for a moment as she hit climax, then she went completely limp. "Oh, Draco," she whispered, as he kept going. "Get there... be selfish. Use me."

He had intended to anyway, but was glad to have her permission-- getting his second wind, he sped up and hammered away at her.

"You came," he said breathlessly.

She nodded.

"I can feel it." And he increased his speed to a breakneck pace, making Hermione react.

"I love watching your face," she breathed, as his teeth clenched and his eyes began to roll back in his own head. "God, I love it." She reached out to touch his face, and Draco exploded with force inside of her as her fingertips reached his cheek.

He immediately fell down next to Hermione on the floor, drained and satisfied, and draped an arm across her. She snuggled up to him and kissed him on the cheek, then buried her head in his shoulder. "That was fun. You're amazing, Draco."

Draco smiled back at her. "Oh, Hermione." He looked at her, smile spread across her lips, afterglow painted on her chest, and sighed. "My angel."

The next morning, Hermione awoke to the rays of dawn poking through the curtains in her dormitory. She stretched and yawned, the corners of her mouth turning automatically upward as she thought of the previous night. An involuntary little giggle escaped her lips as she slipped out of her nightgown and into her robes. Lighthearted, she sprang down the stairs to the Gryffindor commonroom and met up with Harry and Neville.

"Morning, boys," she said brightly. "Sleep well?"

Harry and Neville exchanged a look. "Like a baby," Neville replied.

Ginny Weasley made her way down the stairs and joined the trio. "Where's Ron?" she asked.

"I dunno," Harry said. "Parvati came to talk to him last night, and then he came back to our room all mopey-like. I asked him what was the matter and he wouldn't talk about it. Then he went to the kitchens-- said he needed something to eat-- and I haven't seen him since."

Immediately, Hermione was on her guard. "You mean he never came back?"

"I don't think so," Harry replied. "He wasn't there when I woke up this morning."

"Odd," Ginny said. "Wonder what Parvati could have said that bothered him so much?"

"I-- you guys go on ahead to breakfast," Hermione stuttered. "I'm going to go see if I can find Parvati." Without waiting for an answer, she swept around and ran upstairs.

"Think she knows something?" Harry wondered.

Ginny shrugged. "Dunno. Let's go down to breakfast."

"Parvati, are you in here?" called Hermione. She came face-to-face with one of the Patil twins. "Oh, Padma. Have you seen your sister?"

"Is it true?" she whispered, ignoring Hermione's question.

Hermione was impatient. "Is what true?"

"Parvati thinks you've got something going on with Malfoy," Padma told her.

Hermione's eyes got very wide, and Padma mistook her nerves for anger. "I'm sorry, Hermione," she said quickly. "I tried telling her it was all codswallop, but she wouldn't hear me. Listen, I think she went to tell Ron."

"I know," Hermione said.

Padma's hand flew to her mouth. "He-- believed it then? Dumped you?"

"I don't know, Padma," Hermione replied. "I haven't seen him yet. Harry told me he saw Parvati and Ron talking last night."

"Oh, Merlin," Padma lamented. "Hermione, you've got to find them both and set things straight."

"I know. Do you know where your sister is?"

"Library," she replied. "Doing a bit of catching up in Arithmancy."

"Thanks, Padma," Hermione replied, and ran out the door.

She came upon the other Patil twin sitting at a long table, poring over a thick book, her eyes half-closed. They flew open when Hermione ungraciously slammed the book shut for her and glared at her.

"What?" Parvati said.

"I know what you suspect," she began, "and I know that you told Ron."

Parvati was taken aback. "It's true, isn't it? You're snogging Malfoy behind Ron's back. Well I'm sorry, but he deserves better."

Hermione was fuming. "Yeah, Parvati, I am," she said in a heated whisper. "And I'm doing much more than that. You know what we were doing just last night in the Astronomy Tower? Each other. That's right, Parvati, the good girl is sleeping with the enemy. And he's good... oh is he good." She smiled at Parvati's stunned expression. "Oh, don't look so surprised." She slowly drew her wand out of her robes. "And now, we can't have you blabbing this all around the school. So, courtesy of good old Professor Lockhart--" she touched her wand to the stupefied Parvati's temple-- _"effaciate!"_

Parvati looked dazed for a moment, then shook her head and turned to Hermione. "Oh, hello, Hermione! I didn't see you there." She looked at the table. "No books for you this morning?"

A sly grin spread across Hermione's face. "Not at all. Just wanted to ask you if you've seen Ron around?"

"Haven't seen him since a couple days ago, actually," Parvati said. "In the Great Hall. Sorry I can't help you."

"No problem," Hermione said graciously, standing up. "Enjoy your studying." And with great satisfaction, she pranced off.

"You've got a lot of nerve, you know!" came a voice from behind her as she was heading toward the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hermione turned. It was Ron, looking angry and disheveled. "What do you mean?" she asked innocently. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" he spat. "Parvati comes to me, telling me that you're running around with Malfoy behind my back-- _Malfoy, _Hermione, what in the hell are you thinking?-- and I'm supposed to be okay?"

"Are you out of your mind?" Hermione rebuked. "What would I be doing with Malfoy?"

"Parvati said--"

"Here comes Parvati right now," Hermione said, gesturing to the figure clutching a giant book in her hands, murmuring facts to herself as she walked. "Mind if I ask her?"

"Go right ahead," Ron replied, folding his arms.

"Parvati!" called Hermione. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said. "What's going on?"

"Ron says you told him I was sneaking around with Malfoy," Hermione said.

Parvati laughed. "What? Oh, that's rich... you and Malfoy." She shook her head. "I wouldn't even joke about something like that. Unless..."

"What?" Ron demanded.

"Well, I've been known to sleepwalk. It's a rare occasion, but when I do it, I can be pretty fanciful. I once walked down the hall to inform my mother that Padma was cursing our cat and making her eat our school things because she didn't want to go back to Hogwarts next year." She chuckled at the memory.

"You seemed serious enough to me when you told me last night," Ron maintained.

Parvati shrugged. "I can seem gravely serious. My mom got severely angry at Padma before she realized our books were intact and our cat was outside." She smiled. "Really, I'm sorry if I caused any confusion. I didn't mean to. I can't control it."

"That's alright, Parvati," Hermione told her. "I forgive you."

"I have to get going," Parvati said. "Gotta catch a quick breakfast before class." She scurried off down the hall.

"There you have it," Hermione said to Ron, who was still scowling.

"I guess," he muttered.

"Of course, if you are going to believe every stupid little rumor you hear... especially from a sleepwalking Parvati... I don't know if you're someone I can be with."

"What?" Ron was completely taken aback. "You heard her... she can be gravely serious, she said..."

"I don't care if Godric Gryffindor himself had told you," Hermione spat, "I'd think you would have enough guts to talk with me before jumping to crazy conclusions! Really, Ron! Malfoy and I? Get serious."

"Crazier things have happened in this castle."

"Like when you caught Harry and your sister?"

"Shut up!" he sputtered. "You know that still gets to me!"

Hermione tossed her hair to the side. "I'm sorry, Ronald. I just can't deal with someone who will believe a sleepwalking girl's rumor over my word. It's over." And she strutted right past him, leaving him shocked and desolate in the hallway.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione felt free. She was rid of Ron, and Draco, in a very un-Draco-like moment, had blushingly held her hand and asked if she would please join him for a surprise in the Astronomy Tower that night. Of course she had agreed, and was wondering what could possibly be waiting for her that would make Draco blush.

She shook it out of her head, trying to think of something she could do that would surprise him. Ideas ran through her head-- maybe she'd sneak off to buy new lingerie at Hogsmeade, or perform an Imperius Curse on Draco; maybe she'd dominate him for a change. No, she liked being the submissive too much, and the next Hogsmeade visit was at least a month away. She wanted instant gratification.

Slowly, a fiendish grin spread across her face, and she scurried off to find her Time-Turner and Harry's invisibility cloak.

"Finch-Fletchley?" Professor Trelawney was taking attendance.

"Here."

"Goyle?"

"Here."

"Granger?" A pause. "Granger?"

Padma turned to Lavender Brown. "Where's Hermione?"

"Hospital wing," Lavender replied. "She's ill."

Draco sat up in his seat. _I hope she's alright_, he thought._ I wish I could go visit her after class..._

"Today," began Professor Trelawney, "we will be practicing the way to control the crystal ball so that you may see--" her voice trailed off in a shrill and mysterious tone-- "what you need... to know."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Bullshit," he groaned to Goyle. "This day is going to be boring."

What he didn't notice was the tablecloth lifting.

"Now, one of you, take the crystal ball and try to gaze into the future of the person opposite you."

Draco grabbed the crystal ball with a roll of his eyes.

From under the table, Hermione undid the zipper and button on Draco's pants and pulled him out through the flap in his boxers.

His eyes flew open and he gave a little start, immediately scooting closer to the table.

"What's the matter?" Goyle asked.

Draco shook his head as Hermione took him into her mouth and began relentlessly sucking. "Holy shit," he whispered.

"See something?" Goyle inquired.

"Uh... yeah," Draco faltered.

"Well?"

"Umm... I see that you're going to be killed," Draco offered, trying to make a joke. Professor Trelawney was well-known for favoring predictions of gruesome deaths over real divination.

Goyle paused, then chuckled. "Good one, Draco."

Draco barely had time to scoff at the stupidity of his friend. Hermione was ravenously going up and down, her lips hitting his pelvis-- he felt the tip of himself being rammed down her throat. His eyes began to roll around.

"Draco?" Goyle looked a little worried.

"I'm alright," he gasped out, as Hermione ran her teeth up the base and swirled her tongue around the tip. He grasped the crystal ball so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Professor Trelawney saw his face, painted with intensity, and clapped her hands together. "Mr. Malfoy, you are in the beyond!" she crowed delightfully. "Your face tells me that your aura is pulsing."

Hermione could barely hold in her laughter. She was going to have fun with this-- she knew that the whole class would be staring at him, and she was going to bring him to orgasm in front of the whole class if it was the last thing she did. Intently, she concentrated on Draco's length. She came off for a moment to caress it-- he was so hard, and indeed, pulsing.

"What do you see, my boy? Look into the ball."

Draco took a deep breath. Hermione had stopped. "I, uh, see Goyle. He's standing... in the Slytherin--" he gave a little yelp as Hermione slammed him back into her-- "commonroom! In the commonroom."

She bit down ever so slightly at the base and let her tongue massage the underside, then let her teeth go and moved her head in a circle, her lips grazing the most sensitive areas.

"What is happening in the commonroom?" Professor Trelawney prodded.

His eyelids fluttered. "Someone's approaching him."

Professor Trelawney's eyes were wide and starry behind her thick glasses. "Who?"

Draco's eyes closed. Under the table, she was deep-throating him, moving her tongue, using her teeth, tightening her mouth, her lips-- no one had ever given him head like this before, and he was hardly even aware that he was in class, hardly aware that the professor was waiting for an answer. His eyes closed. "Hermione," he whispered, barely audible.

"What was that, Mr. Malfoy? Hermione is approaching Mr. Goyle?"

Across the room, Padma's mouth dropped open.

He snapped to attention. "Yes, Hermione is approaching Goyle... and... she is handing him a piece of paper..." She was still going, sucking relentlessly, and he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.

"What is the piece of paper?" Professor Trelawney was getting impatient.

"It's--" he felt the pre-cum drip into Hermione's mouth-- "oh Merlin, it's a death threat, she's letting Goyle know he's going to be killed!" He shut his eyes, not knowing how long he could take it before he exploded.

"Mr. Malfoy, you must open your eyes! I realize that it must be disturbing to foresee your friend's imminent death..."

Lavender Brown snickered. "This is hilarious," she said aside to Padma. "And I thought it was going to be a yawn today."

Padma shook her head. All she could think of was her sister and how she hadn't believed her.

"Mr. Malfoy, open your eyes!"

Draco was so near climax, so near release... he pried his eyes open as Hermione labored away...

"Mr. Malfoy, do you see dear Gregory's fate?" demanded Professor Trelawney.

He clenched his teeth and gripped the crystal ball even tighter.

"You're gonna break it," whispered Goyle from across the table.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

Hermione stroked his leg and began to hum softly, still not letting up.

"Mr. Malfoy, tell us... who is going to kill Mr. Goyle!"

Lavender erupted in laughter, and Padma glared at her.

"Draco?" Goyle looked at him, leaning forward.

So close... _oh, Hermione... yes..._

"Mr. _Malfoy!"_

"Hermione!" he yelled, as he shot explosively into her mouth. She swallowed greedily and cleaned him off with her mouth.

Padma's fingernails dug into her palms. She was irate.

Goyle sat back in his chair and Professor Trelawney dropped her hands. "Hermione Granger?"

Draco trembled-- he was incredibly sensitive, and every touch of Hermione's fingertips as she tucked him back inside his pants sent shivers up and down his spine.

"Yes," Draco said. "Hermione Granger."

Professor Trelawney sighed. "Mr. Malfoy, I would appreciate you not making up fantastic stories to tell the class. Divination is a serious art..."

Immediately, he laughed. "Oh, come on. I was just having a little fun. I can't see a damn thing in that ball."

She glared at him, as much of a glare as she could muster, and sat down at her desk. Pouring herself a glass of brandy, she sighed listlessly. "Class dismissed," she murmured, and the students silently filed out.

Draco shook his head as he followed everyone out of the room. Goyle scurried up to him. "You didn't really foresee my death, did you?"

"Oh, come off it, you git," Draco spat. "Of course I didn't."

"Why were you making those faces, then? It didn't look like an act."

"Well, then that just means I was good, doesn't it?" He looked intently at his crony.

Goyle lowered his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Real good." A pause. "Draco, who was under the table? I heard someone humming."

Draco's eyes flared and he turned on him. "You didn't hear anything! Understand me, Goyle? You didn't hear a damn thing!" And he stalked off. He had a dinner to get ready, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco was still a little unsettled by the fact that Gregory Goyle had picked up on what had been happening in the Divination classroom. Goyle wasn't the brightest crayon in the box-- he and everyone else knew that. So if Goyle could figure it out, who else in that classroom suspected that his presence in the beyond had been because of an orgasm, and not a prophetic vision?

As he stalked down the hall to the Slytherin dormitories, he ran through the possibilities in his mind. Lavender Brown wouldn't be a threat-- she was the gossip queen of Hogwarts. The story was so fantastic that it would be dismissed as a wild rumor by anyone she told. Pansy Parkinson-- she'd refuse to believe that Draco's affections could gravitate toward anyone but her. Now Padma Patil-- she was a little more intuitive, and might have guessed. Surely, though, she wouldn't believe that her goody-two-shoes friend would be sucking the cock of Hogwarts' most feared student.

Proudly, he smiled at the thought. _They're all too afraid to say anything in the first place,_ he reassured himself, being grateful for the first time about the rumors (and truths) Harry had leaked about his family.

"Toad candles," he uttered, and breezed through the double doors.

Crabbe was stretched out on a couch, popping truffles from Honeydukes into his round mouth and watching two younger Slytherins play Wizard's Chess. "Hey, Draco," he called, "here's what you wanted." He held up a giant box of Honeydukes chocolates, identical to the half-finished one lying open beside him. As Draco took the box from him, he chuckled. He and Hermione wouldn't be able to eat the contents of the giant box in a month, and here was Crabbe, already finished with half of the box he bought for himself.

"What?" Crabbe was bewildered. He'd never heard an honest, amused laugh come out of Draco before.

Draco smiled. "Save some for Goyle." He left it at that and went up to his chamber.

Once up in his chamber, he set the box of chocolates on his bed and tossed his books on the floor. When he turned around, he was staring Hermione in the face.

"I'm so sorry," she said before he could speak. "I didn't mean for anyone to hear, and Goyle did."

Draco took her in his arms. "It's not your fault, Hermione."

She did not look convinced.

He laughed and pushed a strand of her out-of-control hair from her face. "For Merlin's sakes, Hermione, I'm the one who screamed your name in the middle of class."

She allowed herself a small smile. "That _might_ have tipped someone off."

Happy that her face had relaxed, Draco kissed her on the forehead. "Don't blame yourself for an instant, angel. Now, I'd love nothing more for you to stay here and give me a reprise of what happened in Divination, but I've got to get your surprise ready."

Hermione instantly filled with anticipation. "Can't I have a hint?" she wheedled.

A smile spread across Draco's face, and he chuckled. "No. Now go back to your dormitory and get ready for tonight, will you?"

"What shall I wear?" she asked, hopeful for a clue.

"Just dress nicely," was Draco's vague answer. He kissed her again. "Off with you now," he smiled. "I've got a lot to do."

Hermione smiled. "I'll see you tonight, then," she replied, slipping the Invisibility Cloak over her and leaving Draco's room.

She knew she couldn't leave until someone else opened the door-- a door opening with no sight of a person would cause suspicion. She chose an out-of-the-way spot behind a couch to wait.

"Move the bishop," Crabbe suggested around a mouthful of chocolate. He pointed a chubby finger at the board. "There."

The Slytherin whom he was giving instructions to glared at him. "That'd put me in checkmate." He instead chose to move the queen, who plunged her sword into an unfortunate knight.

The door slammed, and Goyle waddled in with his arms full of pastries. He put them down on the table, his eyes widening at the chocolate. "Trade you for a couple of those," he said, holding up a cheese danish.

Crabbe took the pastry and tossed him a handful of truffles.

"Crabbe," Goyle said, biting into an apple turnover, "anything about Draco seem-- well, _off_ lately to you?"

Hermione's head snapped to attention.

"What do you mean?" Crabbe paused. "Well, he smiled at me today. But that doesn't mean anything."

"I think he's got a secret girlfriend or something," Goyle whispered.

"Why would you say that?"

"I think there was someone... under the table in Divination today."

"And what makes you say _that_?"

"His eyes were rolling back in his head, he was barely paying attention to Trelawney, he was faking a revelation to cover up--"

"Cover what up?"

Goyle rolled his eyes. "Someone was giving him head underneath the table."

Behind the couch, Hermione clenched her fists. _Goyle knows._ But did he know who?

Crabbe wanted to know the same thing. "So who was it?"

A sigh. "I think it was Hermione Granger," he said at last.

Crabbe erupted in laughter. "Hermione Granger? Oh, that's a good one."

"I'm serious!" Goyle was impatient.

"Yeah, and I'm Order of Merlin," Crabbe scoffed.

Goyle looked hurt.

"Oh, get off it. Granger? First off, she hates Draco like mad. All her little friends do. And secondly, even if she did somehow want him, Draco wouldn't touch her. She's a Mudblood."

Hermione's face flushed. Her blood was boiling. What she really wanted to do was erase their memories, but to do the curse, she'd have to take off the Invisibility Cloak and the whole population of the Slytherin commonroom would see her.

"I tell you, Crabbe, I'm telling the truth. He said her name twice in class. And it wasn't just an offhand mention."

Crabbe looked skeptical.

"Once, he whispered it when he was aware of nothing. Trelawney was badgering him with questions-- he was off in another world. And the second time-- well, he screamed it. At the top of his lungs."

"Maybe... okay. You remember he had us stand guard while he fucked the shit out of her that day," Crabbe began.

"Yeah?"

"What if her punishment never stopped? What if she's his slave now?"

Goyle contemplated the situation. "Still, it doesn't matter. What if they had a kid accidentally? It would mess with his pure bloodline. She's a Mudblood, Crabbe. We can't have it continue."

A piece of chocolate disappeared inside Crabbe's mouth as he considered this. "Sleeping with the enemy," he pronounced.

"What'll we do?"

Hermione waited to hear no more. She leapt up from her hiding place and slipped out the door right behind Gwendolyn Miller.

_I'll tell him tonight,_ she thought as she hurried down the corridors.

It was 8:00. Hermione, smiling to herself, was putting her Time-Turner away in its hiding place: a secret compartment in her jewelry box.

_Good thing Dumbledore trusted me with that,_ she thought. _Never thought it would come in handy as more than a way to attend way too many classes._

She selected a pair of crystal chandelier earrings that her mother had sent her last Christmas, added a necklace, and turned to look at herself in the mirror. She smoothed out her dress, a gorgeous yet simple black strapless that she'd bought back in London. When she bought it, she had no idea where she'd wear it-- she just had to have it. Somehow, she was glad that its first appearance was going to be at a secret dinner date with Draco Malfoy. Smiling at herself in the mirror, she pulled the Invisibility Cloak around her and slipped out of Gryffindor house.

The Astronomy Tower was dark, save for the ornate candelabra in the center of the small round table. It was flanked by two small bud vases, each holding two petite red roses. The glow of the candlelight bounced off the walls, casting a dim warmth over the room, gleaming off the polished gold-plated silverware and the gold rims of the beautiful china. The ceiling, just like in Draco's bedroom, had been bewitched to mirror the night sky.

Draco was waiting for Hermione, a bottle of wine in his hands, dressed in an all-black casual suit. "Good evening, angel," he greeted her.

Hermione drew in a breath, taking in her surroundings. "I love it," she breathed. "It's gorgeous."

"As are you." He pulled out a chair for her, pushing it in as she settled down on the rich cherrywood.

She blushed, though it was hard to see in the dim light.

"This looks great," Hermione told him, picking up her knife and fork. She began to cut her steak into pieces. "How did you manage all this?"

Draco shrugged. "A few charms, some spells, bribes, friends. The usual."

She slid a forkful of crispy green beans into her mouth. "Well, it's delicious."

A wink. "So are you."

She felt a flutter, and the involuntary contraction that told her she was getting wet. She pressed her thighs together as she took a bite of garlic potatoes.

They ate peacefully, discussing classes, careers, and charms. Hermione blushingly acknowledged that she'd finally worked out a successful memory charm that would enable photographic memory. "I use it when I'm studying," she confessed. "It feels like cheating... but I figured out the spell, and plus some people have photographic memories already... I just wasn't blessed with one, so I had to figure out a way to get one..."

Draco grinned. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

She pelted him with a roll. "It's true," she said indignantly, but she was smiling. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"Yeah, whatever... now I know what makes you so "smart." Draco was goading her on, a twinkle in his eye.

Hermione stuck out her tongue at him and shook her head. "So where's dessert?"

Draco unveiled two plates of cherry cheesecake. _"Voila."_

"Mmm," Hermione sounded. "That looks _good_." She took a bite. "Heavenly."

She was about halfway finished when she looked up and realized that Draco hadn't taken a bite. "Is there something the matter?" Right away, old suspicions kicked in. _He's poisoned it. He seduced me and brought me here to kill me! I'm Muggle-born, after all... oh God, what did I get myself into?_

"You've got fear in your eyes," Draco said gently. "Don't be afraid."

"Parvati," whispered Padma, "I need to talk to you."

Parvati had lately been spending as much time in the library as Hermione. Her classes were stressing her out to no end, and she thought that burying her head in her books was the answer. "Padma, I'm sorry," she said. "Really I am. But I've got to study."

Padma shook her head. "You don't understand, Parvati. You were right."

"About what?"

"Malfoy and Hermione."

_"What?"_ Parvati was utterly befuddled.

Angry, Padma pushed Parvati's book from her. "You thought they were having an affair, Parvati. Hermione's glow, Malfoy's apologies? Remember?"

Parvati glared at her sister. "I haven't any idea what you're talking about. And if this is your idea of a joke, it's pathetic."

"What on earth? Just the other day, you were convinced that the Head Girl was sneaking around with the biggest piece of trash in the school. And I wouldn't believe you. And now that I do, and now that I have proof, you're choosing to deny the fact that you told _me?_ Honestly, Parvati, if this is _your_ idea of a joke, then _it's_ pathetic! Now, listen to me!"

A sigh. "Fine," Parvati relented. "I still maintain I didn't tell you a damn thing. But whatever crazy story you've got cooked up, tell me."

And so she did-- the whispering, the prophecy, the screaming, the look on Malfoy's face when he screamed Hermione's name.

"So he made up a prophecy that Hermione would kill Goyle," said Parvati. "So what? We've all made up stupid prophecies in that class. After a while, you get sick of telling Professor Trelawney that you can't see anything and getting failed because you're not clairvoyant. Or insane, as I like to call it." She rolled her eyes. "Aren't you in that class with Lavender? Did she start this stupid story?"

Padma was irate. "_You_ did! What's going on with you, are you losing your mind?"

"I think you're the one with a mental problem," Parvati sighed. "Now would you mind? I have to study." She pointedly opened her book back up and set her eyes on the page.

After a few moments of sitting there, shocked, Padma slammed her fist on the table and marched away.

"Do I have anything to be afraid of?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Of course not." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small dark green velvet box. "Here."

Hermione's jaw dropped. _He couldn't have just handed me--_

"Open it," Draco said impatiently.

Hermione looked up and couldn't help but smile-- he looked like a kid on Christmas morning. She opened the box. "Oh, Draco," she said. "Oh..."

"Isn't it beautiful?" He smiled as she lifted the ring out of the box and examined it. It was a slender band of pure silver, in the shape of a snake with its head to its tail. Emerald eyes flashed in the candlelight, and a ruby tongue licked her finger.

"It's gorgeous," she replied, slipping it onto the ring finger on her right hand.

He reached out and twirled it on her finger. "I know you won't be able to wear it on your finger most of the time," he told her. "Too many questions, too suspicious. So there's a long silver chain in the box for you to put it on... you know, if you want to."

Hermione put her arms around him and kissed him. "Of course I want to."

"I love you," Draco told her suddenly, emotion overflowing inside of him. "I love you so much."

She stopped short. "You've never actually said that to me before," she whispered. "You really love me?"

He held her tight and looked down into her expectant eyes. "More than anything."

"Oh, Draco." She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around him. He lifted her in his strong arms and carried her over to where he had laid out a makeshift bed in the most luxurious of fabrics-- satin, silk, chenille, velvet, fur. Her eyes were calm fire as he slowly pulled the dress from her body. Silently, he removed his jacket and kicked off his socks and shoes, admiring Hermione's curves as the candlelight molded to them and poured over her skin, giving her a radiant glow. _She looks like a goddess,_ thought Draco.

"You're a goddess," he told her, breathless.

Hermione smiled. "Nonsense."

He stretched out next to her. "Athena."

"Draco." It was a gentle reproving.

"No, really, Hermione. She's you." He reached out to touch her. "She was the goddess of Wisdom-- beautiful, smart..."

"You're babbling." And she pulled his lips to hers, letting her slender fingers travel to his shirt, unbuttoning the front and casting it to the side. Slowly, she ran her fingertips over his skin, relishing the feel. She wanted to live in this moment for as long as she could-- everything was perfect here, nothing could go wrong. It was her and Draco and they were together and nothing could go wrong.

Her hands journeyed south, and lithe fingers deftly released Draco's belt and undid the clasps on his dress pants. Unwilling to release her lips from his, she slid his pants halfway off and let him finish the work. He enveloped her in his arms and expertly unclasped her bra, replacing the cups with his hands. Hermione finally got a look at him, and it was her turn to stare-- he'd chosen black silk boxers for the night, and they were tented at the moment. _He's so hot,_ thought Hermione.

Draco caught her staring. "Like them?" he asked.

She nodded wordlessly.

"Thought you might," he said with a smile. He pulled his wand from his abandoned jacket and touched it to Hermione's pelvis. _"Evanesco." _

Like mist in the wind, her satin thong disappeared at the command.

She giggled. "May I try?"

"Of course." He handed the wand over, and she touched it to the elastic band on his boxers. _"Evanesco."_ She watched, awed, as the molecules dissolved and vanished into the cool air. Draco's length was now staring her in the face, tempting her...

Hungrily, she took him into her mouth, giving him a taste of what he'd had in the Divination classroom earlier that day. From the look on his face, she could tell he was enjoying it immensely. But he gently pulled away.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He smiled. "Absolutely nothing." He gathered her in his arms, gently laid her down again. "Make love to me tonight, Hermione." Delicately, he caressed her cheek.

She let out a contented sigh and wrapped her arms around him as he climbed on top of her. He slid slowly in and out, relishing the feeling of her surrounding him, loving the wetness and the tightness and above all, the closeness. Hermione was clasping his body to her own, dropping tiny kisses all over his neck and shoulders. It was divine. Never before had he felt so close to someone-- Hermione was breaking down walls, proving to him that he could love. _And oh Merlin, I am in love with her,_ he thought as he continued to move, stimulating the most sensitive spots within her. Her eyes were wide open, reflecting the stars above her, the candlelight dancing on the walls.

"Draco," she whispered, making the hair on his arms stand on end. She was breathing fast, whispering right into his ear-- he could feel her hot breath on his neck. "Oh, Draco..."

His own eyes flew shut in an effort to concentrate-- he wanted to make this last for her, and to do so, he was going to need to hold off on getting himself there. He was dangerously close as it were, and he desperately wanted to see that angelic face burst into climax.

Slowly he labored, laying kisses on her forehead, her lips, her shoulders, her chest, all the while gently moving inside of her. She was squirming, clearly wanting Draco to make her scream. Almost as if he could read her mind, he firmly gripped her shoulders and began to pound into her, not changing position, still adorning her face with kisses.

"Oh, Draco," she moaned, "yes... please don't stop, you feel so amazing..." Her eyelids pressed together as she tried to hold on, to make it last one more moment... "oh, Draco... yes... _yes... oh!"_ Her scream echoed off the walls of the Tower and bounced back at her from the starry dome.

"Now you," she panted, reaching out to touch his arm, "you..."

He nodded and kept going, knowing very well that Hermione wanted him to explode inside of her. She was dripping wet, and he was sliding around inside her, hammering her relaxed and satisfied body into the luxury of velvet and satin. His eyes began to roll back in his head, which Hermione noticed as the first sign. "Yes," she whispered, almost breathlessly. "Yes... oh, get there for me..."

He was bent on it, all his concentration centered on Hermione and the candleglow and the rhythm of his heartbeat. The skin at her chest and her cheeks had turned rosy-- he could make it darker-- he was pulsing, he could feel it, he was so close. Could Hermione feel the throbbing? "Oh, Hermione... Hermione... oh, yes... _yes!"_ Draco shook as he emptied himself, and immediately curled up at her side.

She giggled, pulling a large burgundy chenille throw over the top of them. "Kind of cold in here."

Draco smiled. "Kind of hot in here."

Hermione blushed. "You're so good."

"And to think, no one's the wiser." He chuckled.

"Actually, Draco..." Hermione sighed. "I think someone is."

"Who?"

"I heard Crabbe and Goyle talking while I was waiting to leave the commonroom," she told him. "Goyle thinks I'm your girlfriend."

A smile spread across Draco's face. "Well... you are." He pulled her close.

She blushed, pleased to hear it. "I know, but... they both know, and they don't like it. Mudblood with a pureblood, you know," she added, cringing at the uncivilized slang.

Draco shrugged. "I'll deal with them tomorrow. They won't tell anyone a damn thing. Crabbe and Goyle... they've always done what I tell them to do," he assured her, and put a protective arm across her. "Don't worry about it, angel."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Yeah, FYI, this was written after OotP so there are some inconsistencies (like Prof. Alexander, etc.) Love you guys, thanks so much for the reviews!!

"Here he comes," Goyle whispered, hastily nodding in the direction of the dormitories. They had gotten out of bed early and met up in the commonroom to discuss Draco's new addiction and try to figure out what to do about it.

"What are you doing up so early?" barked Draco, glancing suspiciously from Crabbe to Goyle.

Goyle looked across at Crabbe.

"Uh..." he glanced around and seized an apple from the bowl on the table. "Hungry." He took a large bite.

Draco folded his arms. "Crabbe," he began warningly, "I've never seen you eat a piece of fruit in my lifetime."

Silence.

"Did you two have some sort of suspicion about me?"

"No," Goyle and Crabbe chorused. "Absolutely not." Goyle was emphatic.

With burning eyes, Draco stared Goyle down. "You haven't been telling Crabbe about things in Divination that you obviously _imagined_, now, have you?"

Goyle quickly shook his head.

"Good," Draco said, even though he knew better. "Because, of course, I'd hate to have either one of you come across a truffle filled with the Pale Horse Potion."

Crabbe's eyes got wide as Goyle shrunk into the couch that they were lounging on.

"We have an understanding, then?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah... yeah, an understanding." Crabbe swallowed hard.

"Goyle?"

Incapable of words, he merely nodded.

"Good. See you around, boys," he said, and left.

"We need to talk," Padma growled, grabbing Ron by his collar and pulling him straight out of his chair in the Great Hall.

"Bloody hell, woman," he protested, "calm down! I would have come even if you hadn't have ripped me out of my chair, you know."

She sighed. "Sorry, but I'm furious. And I have information for you."

"Are you going to tell me Hermione's with Malfoy now, too?"

Padma's glittering brown eyes penetrated Ron's. "She is, Ron."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, bollocks." He turned to leave, but Padma caught his sleeve.

"I'm dead serious," she said. The grave tone in her voice was enough to make Ron turn around and face her. "Ron, in Divination yesterday, Malfoy was acting very... strange."

"When doesn't he?"

"Oh, Ron, listen to me!" She sighed. "He had this look on his face like he was... in another world." She wrinkled her nose. "Professor Trelawney said that he was 'in the beyond.'"

Ron snorted. "That figures."

"The thing is, the look on his face was most definitely one of pleasure, if you catch my drift."

"So? One of his Slytherin whores was under the table. Hermione might be a right foul slag for treating me how she did, but she's not the kind of girl who'd do such a thing with Malfoy."

"Ron, he was calling her name in class. Once he whispered it-- Trelawney was asking him a question and he was in a whole different world, and he whispered her name. And the second time-- well Ron, you can guess what happened, because he hollered it. At top volume."

The look on Ron's face was somewhere in the middle of confused, disgusted, and angry. "Malfoy yelled Hermione's name in class? My Hermione?"

"She's... not your Hermione anymore," Padma gently reminded him.

"Yeah, I bloody know that," he huffed. "Think I don't realize it every day?" He sighed. "Sorry. Not your fault."

Padma gave him a hug. "I know you still care about her," she told him. "Help me get her out of this."

"It's a dangerous situation," agreed Ron. "If it is true."

"Did I tell you... Parvati, she doesn't remember speaking to you about this," Padma said. "I went to talk to her-- I hadn't believed her at first until Divination. I went to apologize and ask for her help. And she didn't remember talking about it at all."

"Yeah, I know," Ron said. "She told me about her sleepwalking."

Padma shook her head, eyes wide and suspicious. "I don't think it was sleepwalking, Ron."

"What are you saying?"

"I think Malfoy may have put a memory charm on her."

Ron sighed. "Sounds like something that creep would do." He shuddered. "I just can't stand to think..." He paused. "I mean, obviously I'm sad that I lost her. Sad is an understatement. But hell, if she isn't going to be with me, she deserves someone a right side better than Malfoy." He sighed. "I would never have done this to her."

Padma nodded. "Don't dwell on her, Ron," she said softly. "You deserve so much more than a cheating girlfriend."

Ron looked down at her, surprised.

She cleared her throat. "Let's go talk to Harry. He knows her better than almost anyone."

He nodded.

"Did you tell them?" asked Hermione in a stage whisper. She was the second person to enter the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom-- Draco was already at his desk, quill in hand, going over the previous day's notes. She couldn't help but smile at seeing him study as she settled into her seat.

Draco nodded. "We're okay," he assured her, snapping his head back to his parchment as Harry entered the room with Neville.

"I know the school's scared of You-Know-Who and all," Neville was saying, "but why have they got to make this class a requirement for everyone? I'm doing Herbology. What's Defense Against the Dark Arts got to do with plants?"

"Nothing," Harry responded. It was useless to argue with Neville-- he mentioned the uselessness of this class to his program of study everytime he walked in. "Morning, Hermione."

"Morning."

"Did you hear about Mrs. Norris?" Harry asked.

The class settled in and chatter continued--the hot topic of the day was Filch's cat, who had been ambushed by Peeves in the hallway with a vat of molasses that the Ravenclaws were going to use to make cookies in celebration of Rowena's birthday.

"I _saw_ it!" Dean Thomas exclaimed, jabbering excitedly to Orla Quirke. "It was great. That cat could barely move. And then when Filch came by and saw her... oh, Merlin, I swear I almost lost it when he set eyes on that cat."

Orla howled with laughter. "Oh, if only it had been Filch himself."

Draco and Hermione exchanged a small smile. They both loathed Filch as much as the rest of the school did, and to hear that Mrs. Norris had been soaked with molasses was a treat indeed.

"Morning, class," came the voice of Professor Alexander, bustling into the room with an armload of books and parchment and his trademark red wand. "Settle down. I know you're all excited about Mrs. Norris--" he gave a knowing smile to the class-- "but we do have to get some work done today."

The students quieted-- some took out parchment and quills to take notes.

"Incapacitation," he scrawled on the blackboard, vocalizing the word as he wrote. "Today's topic of choice. In this class period, we will examine several spells designed to incapacitate a wizard as well as the ways to get yourself out of them." He opened the textbook in front of him. "Page 213, please." He waited as the students got their books out.

"Alright," he began, "who shall we start with?" He scanned the room. "Let's begin with Potter and Longbottom."

They rose from their seats and came to the front of the classroom.

"And we'll take you, Mr. Longbottom. Wand out!"

Neville drew his wand.

"Repeat. _Immobulus!"_

His hand slightly trembling, Neville pointed his wand at Harry. _"Immobulus!"_

Instantly, Harry froze and fell over onto the floor.

"Harry is still conscious," Professor Alexander informed the class. "He cannot use his wand or speak, however. Muggles may compare this to a coma," he added, with a wink in Hermione's direction.

Hermione smiled. Professor Alexander had been a wonderful ally to her newest champion organization, the Society for Muggle-Born Equality. Alexander had been born to Muggle parents as well, so he had a special understanding of how insulting it was to be called "Mudblood." She sighed. _To think, Draco's slurs inspired me to _create_ the society._ She gazed over at him, that bleached-blonde hair, those cold blue eyes which she had so despised, now the source of her most intense passion. The lesson shook her out of her reverie, and she dipped her quill in the inkwell, poised to write.

"Now," continued the professor, "you have been taught about incantation-free magic, yes?"

The students nodded.

"Excellent. I know we've touched on it a bit in this class, but I wasn't sure if you had any experience. Now, Harry. The spell you're going to use-- on yourself, mind-- is the _Scaldi il Corpo._ "Scaldi il Corpo" is literally "warm the body" in Italian. The spell was invented by the daughter of a very famous Italian-- can anyone name either of them?"

Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"Vittoria Flamel was the inventor of the _Scaldi di Carpo_," Hermione recited. "She was the daughter of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel. Nicholas was the inventor of the Sorcerer's Stone."

"Very good, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor."

She beamed.

"Now, the spell which Neville has administered to Harry here, renders the body frozen, for lack of a better word. Some wizards have nicknamed it the Temporary Death because it compares faintly to _rigor mortis_, which is the stiffening of the joints after death."

Across the classroom, Draco let out a low groan. "Come on," he groused, directing to no one in particular. "No one cares about the science. Just get to the point."

Orla rolled her eyes in agreement.

Hermione frowned. Science had been her favorite subject when she went to Muggle school, and she loved to find out how and why things worked.

"What the _Scaldi il Carpo_ does," continued the professor, "is warm the blood and the joints of the body, enabling motion." He turned to Harry. "Can you demonstrate for us, Mr. Potter?"

The students focused their attention on Harry now, watching for signs of motion. A minute passed by. Then--

"He's moving!" Orla gestured to Harry's fingertips, which were wiggling. Within a few moments, the spell had worked, and he was fully mobile again.

Professor Alexander clapped his hands together. "Brilliant! Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, you may return to your seats."

They did so, Neville giving Harry a hearty pat on the back.

"Now, for our next demonstration. How about... Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger."

Hermione giggled to herself. _He's going to have to put me in bondage in front of the class and not let on. This might even be better than Divination._

They approached each other. Draco attempted to sneer at her like he would have in the past, but it didn't quite work out.

"Hermione," the professor instructed. "Wand, and repeat. _Incarcerous!"_

_Me? _

"Come on, Miss Granger. Wand up."

She pointed her wand at Draco and pressed her lips together, as if to reinforce that the professor was making her do this. "_Incarcerous!"_

In an instant, Draco was bound with ropes and tied to the nearest desk. A strip of cloth wrapped itself around his mouth.

Harry and Neville, along with most of the class, laughed loudly. "Brilliant," Harry approved.

Hermione gave him a half-smile.

"Pretty obvious what this spell does, isn't it?" He smiled. "Incapacitates your opponent by restraining him with ropes."

As he continued his explanation, Hermione tuned him out, focusing on the image of a bound and gagged Draco lying helplessly on the floor. She felt the oncoming wetness and took a deep breath, holding herself back, imagining all the things she could do to him.

"The counter-spell," Professor Alexander was saying, "is _extricatus._ Mr. Malfoy, if you would."

He closed his eyes and concentrated hard-- within a few seconds, the ropes had vanished and he was back on his feet.

"Well done, Mr. Malfoy." The professor applauded.

Draco glanced at Hermione, sensing that she was turned on. "What about the know-it-all?" He raised his wand. "Let's see her skill. _Impedimenta!"_

Hermione was struck numb with the force of his spell. Immediately, she made to thrust her wand forward and curse him in return, but she couldn't move. Helplessly, she looked across at Draco, who appeared quite satisfied. His arms were folded and a smug smile was painted on his face.

"Same counter-spell, Miss Granger," the professor told her.

Draco was not going to allow her to escape. _"Silencio!"_ he commanded.

"Mr. Malfoy," began the professor, a warning tone in his voice.

But he was possessed. He knew that Hermione could still escape with the powers of her mind. Once more, he pointed his wand at her, opened his mouth to cast his final spell. But before he could utter the curse, Harry flew out of his chair.

"_Expelliarmus!" _he shouted, sending Draco flying across the room. He slammed into the wall and his wand fell from his hand.

_"Extricatus." _Professor Alexander freed Hermione, then turned on Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, don't think that stunt will go unpunished. You'll have detention tonight."

Dazed, Draco shook his head to clear the fuzz from his brain and got to his feet. Hermione stepped in front of him. "You're lucky I'm not the one who decides your punishment," she said coolly. "I'd make sure it was pure torture."

He smirked. "Really? I doubt you're capable."

It was a challenge. And she wasn't going to turn it down.

Armed with knowledge of the secret passage leading into Hogsmeade from the time that Harry had traveled there in their third year, Hermione immediately headed for the village after class. Disguising herself under a cape and a black hood to shade her face, she set out for Madam Jasmine's shop, which was in the racy section of Hogsmeade, a dark little alley with lots of colored lights flashing in the storefront windows.

Hermione stepped off of the alley's trademark black-and-white cobblestone road and ducked into Madam Jasmine's. Her eyes met racks full of corsets, leather, and latex. There were bins full of whips, switches, and more restraints than Hermione knew existed. An array of books with titles like "Dominating a Witch" and "Spells to Successfully Restrain Your Submissive Wizard" were set up in a display on a table in the center of the store.

"May I help you?" A tall, thin witch with kohl-rimmed eyes and raven-black hair that trailed down to her lower back swept into the room.

"Uh... I'm just looking around," Hermione faltered.

Madam Jasmine smiled. "First time being a dominatrix, is it?"

Hermione blushed. "Yes."

"You're going to need a sufficient outfit then, and some basic tools. Let me help you select some pieces."

"Okay."

"Off with your cloak, dear."

With trembling hands, she took her cloak off.

Madam Jasmine looked her over. "Yes, yes. I've got just the thing for you..."

Twenty minutes later, Hermione was standing in front of a full-length mirror, awed at her appearance. Madame Jasmine had selected a bright red vinyl jacket which cut off just above her belly button. It had long sleeves, and clung to her every curve, defining her chest. It was unzipped to her breastbone, just concealing her breasts. To complement the jacket, she was in a skintight black vinyl miniskirt, with tall red high-heeled boots that came to her knees. Madam Jasmine had proved to be an exceptional stylist as well-- she had tamed Hermione's wild hair, straightening it while allowing it to keep its volume. She'd also suggested turning it black-- Hermione was skeptical, but loved the result, as it contrasted with her lips, which were now stained with blood-red lipstick, and her eyes, which were lined with black and shaded with the darkest grey, giving her perfect smoky eyes.

Madam Jasmine was standing back, pleased with her work. "Give you a switch and some handcuffs and you're ready to go," she remarked, handing her one of the crops from the bin. "You make a great dominatrix. In appearance, at least."

_I do feel powerful,_ she thought, staring at her reflection. She barely recognized herself. There was just one problem left.

"Madam Jasmine, my sub is a... well, he's a powerful wizard. How can I make sure he can't use magic to get out of the restraints I put him in?"

She smiled. "All my restraints come with a special spell I've put on them. Your sub won't be able to release himself from them unless you want him to."

"Perfect. I think I'm ready, then."

"Just going to wear the clothes out?"

Hermione grinned. "Yup."

A few seconds later, she was on her way, her cloak concealing her fetish wear and a black bag in her hand. She made it back to Hogwarts at around 8:00.

_He should be getting out of detention just now,_ thought Hermione. _Just in time._ She fetched the Invisibility Cloak from her room-- thank heavens Harry hadn't needed it lately-- and threw it over herself. She exited the Gryffindor commonroom behind Ritchie Coote and made the familiar trip to Slytherin tower.

"Toad candles," she whispered, and the door swung open.

"There's something creepy with that door," Pansy remarked, shuddering.

Draco, who had been staring into the fire and eating a truffle, looked up. The door opening with no visible person coming in or out meant one thing-- Hermione.

Sure enough, there was a whisper in his ear a few seconds later. "To your room." It was Hermione. "And no one is to come in there. I've got a surprise for you."

This sounded promising. Draco rose immediately. "I'm going to my room," he announced. "No one is to come in until I come out." And he went upstairs.

Crabbe and Goyle knew immediately that Hermione must have something to do with it.

"Crabbe."

"I know."

"Shouldn't we..."

"He'd kill us, Goyle. And you know he'd do it."

"Yeah."

"Where are you, Hermione?" Draco knew he wasn't alone in his room, but he didn't know where she was hiding. "Hermione?"

"Strip," came her voice.

"Where are you?"

"Strip." He did as she said, piling his clothes neatly on the floor.

"Now, lie down."

Curious to find out what she was up to, he followed the instruction.

She pulled the Invisibility Cloak off and reached into her cloak for her wand. _"Incarcerous!"_

Immediately, he was bound and gagged. Hermione stepped delicately over to the bed and untied his gag.

He was awed. "Your hair, Hermione."

"That's not all." She drew her cloak off and cast it to the side, revealing what she had underneath.

Draco was speechless.

"Now, since the professor was kind enough to teach you how to get out of that this afternoon..." She pulled two pairs of handcuffs from her cloak and handcuffed a wrist to each bedpost, then repeated the pattern with shackles and his ankles.

"Hermione..."

She slapped him square in the face. "You are to address me as Mistress," she commanded, drawing her switch out and trailing it down his body, starting at his cheek and ending at the tip of his cock. "Understand me?"

Taken by surprise, he nodded wordlessly, staring at Hermione, who had changed from his submissive angel into a seductive siren.

_"Say it."_

"I understand, Mistress."

She was drunk with power. Here she was, bookworm Hermione, dressed in fetish latex with the school's most feared student at her beck and call, ready to bow to her every whim. And she was going to take full advantage of this. She was going to relish every moment.

Hermione climbed onto the bed and let her lips hover just above Draco's length. She knew he loved her mouth, knew he thought she was talented. And he wanted it, of that she was sure. So she was going to deny him.

Taking care not to even brush the surface with her lips, she lowered herself down, letting her hot breath envelop his length. He was aching to feel her tongue against him.

"Please, Mistress," he whispered.

Hermione lifted her eyes to glare at him, then returned to his cock.

His hands clenched and unclenched as she continued to tease, until all he could think of was her mouth. Almost involuntarily, he thrusted into her mouth, letting out a breath as he felt her wet tongue on his skin.

Indignantly, she flew off of him and brought the switch down hard on his pelvis. "I didn't tell you to do that," she snapped. "You do nothing unless I tell you, understand? You're my slave." She punctuated her sentence with another sting from the crop.

_She's transformed,_ Draco thought. _This is hot._

And he had the urge to make this a challenge for her.

He concentrated hard, figuring she'd made a trip to Madam Jasmine's, knowing the spell that was on the restraints. All it would take was concentration. _Think of her voice... now of the counter-curse..._

As Hermione climbed on top of Draco again, straddling him in her vinyl and latex, the metal snapped and Draco was free. Before she knew what was happening, he flipped her over and pinned her to the bed.

"Didn't really think you were going to dominate me in my own room, did you?"

She grinned. _"Accio wand," _she said coolly, and poked it into his chest. _"Imperio,"_ she whispered.

His eyes got wide_. Did she really just use the Imperius Curse on me?_

"Yes," Hermione said, knowing what he was thinking. "Now. You will get up, let me lay down, and bury your face in my pussy until I come."

Hardly realizing what he was doing, Draco got up and watched as Hermione laid herself out on the bed. She pulled her skirt up and, like a magnet to steel, Draco's tongue met her skin and flicked over the most sensitive spots. He stayed there obediently, ignoring the fact that his jaw hurt, ignoring how tired his tongue was getting, intent only on pleasing his Mistress.

"Oh, yes," Hermione whispered, "slave... make your Mistress come."

Her wish was his command, and he sped up, tilting her pelvis so he could get a better angle. Within seconds, he had her screaming, arching her back, pushing her palms into the bedclothes-- she exploded inside his mouth, and he swallowed every last drop.

"You're delicious, Mistress," he said quietly.

"Good slave," she cooed. "Now lie down on the bed."

He crawled onto the bed and stretched his hands out toward the bedposts.

"You don't need to be tied," Hermione reminded him. "You'll do whatever I want you to now."

"Yes, Mistress." He withdrew his hands and brought them to his sides.

"Of course, I like seeing you in bondage." She called her wand again. _"Incarcerous!"_

The part of his mind that wasn't under Hermione's control reacted. He loved this, the feeling of being owned, being controlled. Now he knew why she was always so easy to dominate.

She discarded her skirt and jacket and impaled herself on his hard cock.

"You're soaking wet," he observed.

"Yes I am," she replied, and without another word, gripped the bedrail and began to ride him mercilessly.

"Oh, Mistress," he murmured, his eyes rolling back in his head. "Mistress..."

Hermione growled, feeling his length penetrate and hit her spot. She ground into him, enjoying the sensation momentarily, then picked up her hips and began to slam him into the bed.

"Mistress!" he yelped, his eyes flying open. "Oh, yes..."

Hermione watched his face intently, watched his eyelids start to flutter. "You are not to come without my permission, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress." He was breathing heavily, his mouth a straight line, concentrating on not exploding. It was so hard... she was pounding him ruthlessly, black hair flying, fire in her eyes.

"Ohhh," she breathed. "Draco..." She gripped the bedrail tighter and picked up speed. "God... yes... Draco, oh..."

He was dangerously close. "Mistress, may I come?"

"Not yet!" she barked, angry at being interrupted. She slammed into him even harder, forcing him to reach the deep recesses of her canal. "Fuck yes," she exhaled, her eyes rolling back. "Yes... yes... _yes!_ Oh fuck, I'm so close... I'm almost there..."

Draco closed his eyes. Watching Hermione's face was enough to make him come, and he knew the repercussions would be terrible. He had to last.

"Oh... God... Draco! _Yes!"_ In one glorious thrust, she came, drenching his cock with her juices. "Come, slave... come..."

That was all he needed to hear. With no hesitation, he shot his load into Hermione's waiting pussy.

After taking it in, she fell onto the sheets beside him. _"Accio wand," _she said breathlessly, and pointed it at Draco. _"Finite incantatem."_

He felt the effect of the Imperius Curse drift away. "Hermione," he began, "you know that the Imperius Curse can land you a life sentence in Azkaban."

She gave him a cocky smile. "And you're going to tell on me?"

"No." He laughed. "I just... didn't think you could do something like that."

"Seems I'm surprising more people every day," she replied.

"On that subject, I love the hair. And the outfit."

"Thought you might."

He smiled. "You're hot, Hermione."

With a grin, she laid a kiss on his cheek. "I love you, slave."

He laughed. "I love you too."


	7. Chapter 7

"Harry, we need to talk."

Harry turned from Padma to Ron. They were both standing in front of his chair with grave expressions.

"Sure. About what?"

"Alone," Padma said.

Curious, Harry shut his book and followed them to Ron's and his dormitory.

"Alright, what's going on here?" Harry demanded.

Padma and Ron exchanged a sidelong glance.

"We think Hermione's fooling around with Malfoy," Ron said quietly.

"What?"

"There's loads of evidence," Padma told him. "I'll tell you everything if you want me to. But we're sure of it."

"Beyond any doubt?"

Padma nodded. "Beyond any doubt."

Harry let out a breath. "Why on earth would she do such a thing?"

"No one knows," Padma replied.

"Well, have you tried talking to her about it?"

Padma sighed. "Parvati-- she tried to tell me about it, and I didn't believe her. The only time I talked to Hermione about it, I was telling her that I didn't believe she'd be involved with him." Her gaze strayed to the floor. "She obviously fooled me."

"Ron?"

"You think she'd listen to me? I am her ex-boyfriend," Ron pointed out. "Girls don't often take relationship advice from their ex-boyfriends."

"Good point," Harry conceded.

They sat in silence for a moment, thinking, until Harry broke the silence.

"You two are sure about this?"

"Yes, Harry, we're sure." Padma was emphatic.

He shook his head. "It's just-- I've known Hermione the whole time we've been here. We've always been close friends. And I-- well, I just don't believe she'd be with Malfoy. I could barely swallow it when she was with Viktor Krum--" Ron clenched his teeth-- "and I especially can't take this seriously. Even if Hermione fancied him for some odd reason, he hates her. She's Muggle-born. Besides--" he nodded at Ron-- "it's you she belongs with. You both know it."

"Thanks, mate," Ron said, "really. You know I love the girl like mad. Always have, just took me awhile to admit it to myself. And her," he added, smiling at the memory of the day he confessed his feelings for her. "But-- she's dumped me now and I've got to get on with life." He swallowed hard. "We're... not going to be together."

He sniffed, and Harry could have sworn he saw tears in the corners of his eyes.

Padma, who was sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, got up and gave Ron a hug. She looked up into his eyes. "There's another girl waiting," she whispered, firmly taking his hands. "I'm sure of it. And if you look hard enough, you'll find her."

"Thanks," he murmured.

She sat down and smoothed her skirt out. "So... Hermione."

"Wait a minute," Ron spoke up. "That day that you said she was..." He couldn't bear to say it. "That day in Divination," he quickly said. "She couldn't have been in that classroom."

"What are you talking about?" Padma said.

"She was in the hospital wing," Ron told her, a smile lighting his face. "Lavender told me! She went to see how she was doing after Astronomy! And Madam Pomfrey had said something about her being in there for the past hour!"

"But I know she was in that room," Padma pressed. "No one can be in two places at once."

Ron's face fell. "Unless..."

Harry nodded. "The Time-Turner."

"What?" Padma was lost.

Ron sighed. "Dumbledore gave Hermione a Time-Turner at the start of term in our third year. It was so she could take more classes, because she wanted to sign up for certain classes that were held at the same time."

"So she needed to be in two places at once," Padma translated. "And that was the way. I see."

"And now she's using it for other purposes," declared Ron.

Harry got up. "C'mon, guys," he said, "we're jumping to conclusions. Why don't I just talk to her?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Ron snapped. "Hey, Hermione, I think you're sleeping with Malfoy." He glared at Harry. "She'd stop speaking to you, and if push came to shove, who knows what she'd have her new boyfriend do to you."

"You're worried for nothing," Harry replied. "She's our best friend. And she couldn't control Malfoy whether they were together or not."

"Easy for you to say," Ron spat. "Best friends. She hardly says a word to me now, and I barely suggested anything! She always liked you better anyway... maybe she'll just invite you to the party."

Harry was furious. "It's not my fault that she..."

"Boys!" Padma interjected. "We're not going to solve anything this way." She looked from one to the other. "Come on. Sit down." Sighing, she turned to Harry. "Look. Hermione thinks I don't have a clue what's going on. Maybe I can become a confidant and she'll spill something to me. In the meantime, Harry, would you at least try talking to her?"

He shrugged. "I still have a hard time believing this."

"Harry, please," Padma pleaded. "It's for her own safety."

"She can't be with him," he insisted.

"But what if she was?" Padma took him by the shoulders. "Harry, what if she was. She could be lost to the Dark side. She could... she could even become a servant of You-Know-Who. We know Malfoy's family serves him."

Harry's eyes met hers. They were penetrating his mind.

"She's one step away from falling onto the wrong path forever," Padma warned. "You'll never forgive yourself if you knew you could help her and you didn't." With that, she left the room.

Harry turned to Ron. "Ron, you don't really think..."

Ron was staring into space. "I don't know," he said. He shook himself out of his trance. "I have to go somewhere."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know. I just... need to be alone for awhile."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I understand."

"Well, then." Ron turned and walked out.

Harry went over and sat down by the window. Outside, he could see the Slytherin team practicing at the Quidditch pitch. Draco was among them. He imagined Hermione and Draco smiling at each other, wrapped in Draco's quilt. _Could it really be possible?_

Draco got in from Quidditch practice holding his hand to his forehead. A Bludger had grazed his skin on a careless beat by Mitchell Malledo, which had earned him one of Draco's lesser wraths-- a mouthful of slugs. It was Ron Weasley who'd originally given him the knowledge of this handy little spell, though Draco would never admit it.

Immediately, he went to Madam Pomfrey after locking up his broom and she washed and bandaged the cut. Even after the stinging stopped, his mood was still sour.

He set off down the hallway, deciding to grab something to eat before going back to Slytherin house. Dusk was approaching, and the halls were nearly empty-- his footsteps echoed off the walls as he made his way down to the Great Hall.

Suddenly, he heard scurrying little steps behind him, and turned to see Hermione covering her face.

"Damn you," she said, lowering her hands, "I wanted to come up behind you and grab your ass."

He grinned back at her. "No one's stopping you."

Looking down the hall to make sure no one was coming, she tiptoed up behind him and squeezed. "Very nice, Draco."

Laughing, he gave her a kiss. "What are you doing down here?"

"Oh, I--" she stopped short, noticing the bandage on his forehead. "What happened?"

"Got hit with a Bludger at practice," he answered.

Her face clouded. "Who did it?"

Draco laughed. "I already took care of him, angel."

"Okay. Good." She brightened. "Where are you headed?"

"Bit hungry-- I was just getting something to eat."

"Me too," Hermione said. "I was actually hoping there was some pound cake left."

"That sounds good," he said, and gazed across at her. "I wish we could just sit together in the Hall and share a meal."

She sighed wistfully. "Me too."

"Hey. What about if I grab us some food, you go grab your cloak, and we'll meet in my dormitory?"

"I feel bad about kicking Crabbe and Goyle out all the time," she replied. "What about if we go to our favorite spot?"

He laughed. "Astronomy Tower it is. I'll see you there."

"Yup." Hermione breezed off down the hallway.

Awhile later, they were seated cross-legged on the floor of the Tower, balancing plates on their laps.

"You were lucky," Draco noted as she brought a forkful of pound cake to her lips. "Last piece."

"Oh!" She held her plate out. "Do you want it?"

"No, that's alright," he said. "You go ahead."

She scooted over to him. "We'll share."

"There's no arguing with you, is there?" He smiled, taking a bite of cake.

"Nope," she said with a smirk.

They finished their cake in silence, and Draco set the plate to the side. "Now come here, angel."

Smiling, she moved closer to him, and he took her in his arms, kissed her. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too." Her heart filled up as she said it-- she _meant_ it, she loved him, and it was the first time she'd felt it in every inch of her.

They brushed their lips together again, and Draco's hand drifted up to cup her cheek. Hermione smiled on the inside. It never got old, kissing Draco. He knew just how to touch her, just how to hold her-- _and just where to put that tongue_, she thought, as it twirled with her own. Her heart leapt as he began to slip her cardigan from her shoulders, release the buttons on her pants, slide her tank top from over her head. He cradled her gently as her hands worked to remove his clothes, tossing pieces to the side.

"I love this," Draco whispered, as Hermione's fingers fumbled with the buckle on his belt. "Being with you... holding you..." He smoothly removed her bra and panties. "Making love to you."

"Oh, Draco," Hermione breathed. She closed her eyes as he came over her, plunging his fingers into her hair, easing himself inside her.

"You feel amazing," she sighed, a peaceful look washing over her face.

He smiled down at her. "You always feel amazing."

Moving slowly within her, Draco savored the tight hold she had on him. Almost involuntarily, he bit his lip as she clenched her walls.

"Come here," she implored, stretching her arms out toward him. He embraced and held her, continuing his motion.

It was making her delirious, his effortless sway, the kisses that were falling on her neck like spring rain. She let her eyes close and her head roll to the side, let her body relax completely so that she could enjoy every sensation to its fullest. His eyelashes brushed her skin and she trembled as her teeth caught her lower lip. "Draco," she breathed, her eyelids fluttering open. His wrist came into focus, and she gasped. "Draco!"

He saw the fear in her eyes and immediately knew what she had seen. Slowly, he pulled out, and lay down beside her. "I was hoping you'd never have to see that," he sighed. "I charmed my wrist to hide it." She was staring at him, aghast. "Yes, Hermione, it's what you suspect it is."

"The Dark Mark," she whispered with a shudder. A flood of thoughts erupted in her mind. _What am I doing? I'm with a Death Eater!_

Draco took her hands. "You know what my family is," he began.

She nodded.

"And you know what happened last year."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears, and she pulled her hands away. "You nearly killed Katie and Ron," she said, "and you planned on killing Dumbledore for the whole year!" She pulled the black sheet off the nearest telescope and covered herself with it. "What was I thinking?" She stepped away from him. "You're pure evil."

"No," he said quietly. "I mean... yes, I did do those things, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of it. The moment that Snape killed Dumbledore-- Hermione, I can still see it, just as if it were happening now. And it haunts my dreams." He sighed, dropping his hands in his lap. "Hermione, Voldemort was going to kill my parents if I didn't succeed. He at least had the mercy to recognize that I tried... and I'm still not convinced that he didn't spare them just because they're loyal servants-- and talented ones, at that." He sighed. "My father's the one who's been forcing me down this path all along. And now that I bear the Mark..." He shrugged. "I'll be killed if I ever stray."

Hermione pulled her cover tighter. "You mean you have to stay with them."

He gave her a long, apologetic look. "Yes."

She sank to the floor.

"Do you love me?" Draco asked earnestly.

Her eyes lifted to his-- the blue was no longer icy, but warm, like the ocean on a summer day.

"I can't say no," she responded with a sigh. "As hard as I tried, I couldn't. I've fallen for you, Draco." She sighed to herself. "God. My heart belongs to a Death Eater."

Carefully, he stepped over to her. "Hermione."

She allowed him to put his arms around her.

"Just remember this-- I would never harm you. No matter what the consequences. You mean more to me than life itself." He pulled away from her and gazed into her eyes. "I think you're going to be the saving of me, Hermione."

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "Oh, Draco."

And as she sobbed into his shoulder, he stroked her hair, looking up at the night sky. _We've made our choice,_ he thought defiantly. _We love each other. And nothing's going to stand in our way now._


	8. Chapter 8

"Ron," Harry began, digging through his trunk, "have you seen my Invisibility Cloak?"

He shrugged. "No. Why do you need it?"

"Just... something I have to do." He held his breath, hoping Ron wouldn't press the issue.

Normally, Ron would have been offended that Harry wouldn't tell him what he was up to, but his mind was too full of other things to care. "Oh. Sorry, but I'll let you know if I do."

"Thanks," Harry said. "I'm sure it'll turn up." A fleeting thought passed through his head, but he shrugged it off and went downstairs, leaving Ron to his thoughts. He spotted Hermione sitting by the fire, vacantly knitting an elf hat.

"Hermione," Harry greeted her, "you haven't made any clothes this whole year. You're starting up SPEW again?"

She looked up at him. "No," she said with a weak smile, wrapping some yarn around her arm. "Just... figured Dobby might want something in spring colors."

Harry chuckled. "Hey, you haven't seen my Invisibility Cloak around by chance, have you?"

"No," she faltered. "Why?"

"Oh, I just have some work to do," he replied casually. "McGonagall hasn't been as understanding of a Headmaster as Dumbledore." For a moment, he thought about sitting down with her to sort out this Malfoy business, then decided against it. "See you around."

"Yeah, see you."

Draco, meanwhile, was lying on his bed, staring at the Mark on his arm, remembering the day it was given to him. His parents had been at his side as Voldemort touched his wand to Draco's arm-- the proud looks on their faces as he winced at the burn were as clear in his mind now as they were then. Afterwards, they had went to Knockturn Alley and showed it off, letting the world know that the Malfoy family was now the most powerful pureblood wizarding family in Voldemort's service, boasting that Draco was the youngest Death Eater there had ever been. Hushed rumors traveled the streets-- some said that Draco was the personal apprentice of the Dark Lord himself, chosen to continue his work if the Lord should ever be vanquished.

He'd delighted in the rumors, invoking fear everywhere he went, using the rumors to his advantage. He held sway over some of the most powerful wizards already, and the whole school was frightened of him. The stigma on his arm had given him a great source of power, and he relished it.

But now Hermione knew, and he wished more than anything that he could make the Mark vanish forever. He didn't want absolute power anymore-- he didn't want to be feared. All he wanted was her. No longer did he thirst for murder and death, and he was beginning to loathe his former idol-- Salazar Slytherin-- and his beliefs. But if he renounced the Dark ways, he would no doubt be murdered by Voldemort. He needed to talk to someone who could help him, someone who could sympathize.

Sighing, he slid off the bed and made his way to the second floor girls' bathroom. Moaning Myrtle had been an unusual source of solace for him the year before, and he'd promised to keep visiting her.

"Myrtle?" he called, gingerly pushing the door open. "Myrtle, are you in here?"

The shape of a pigtailed girl in ancient robes and large glasses came floating down. "Of course I'm in here. Where else would I be? No one wants to see poor, miserable Myrtle." She stuck her lip out and glared at the wet bathroom tiles.

"Well I do," Draco said congenially. "It's been awhile."

"Yes it has," she replied. "What's been keeping you? I suppose there are _oh_ so many things more important than _me_." She let out a doleful sigh.

"Well... I've got a girlfriend now," he answered.

Myrtle's face fell. "Oh. Of course you do."

"It's Hermione," replied Draco. "You know her, I think."

"Oh. Oh, yes. The know-it-all girl." She glided over close to him, and an evil grin came over her face. "Do you know," she whispered, "that she turned into a cat in here once?"

His jaw dropped. "Hermione's an Animagus?"

"Oh, no," Myrtle replied. "Polyjuice potion... gone _bad!"_ She squealed and laughed, taking off around the room.

Draco smiled fondly as she settled back down. "So why have you come to see me today, Draco?" Her tone was singsong as she sidled up next to him.

"I needed someone to talk to," he sighed. "And you're about the best friend I've got right now."

Myrtle was touched. "Oh? Well isn't that dreadfully sweet of you."

He didn't know what to say.

"Well, talk away," she trilled, settling into a cross-legged position on the floor and folding her hands daintily beneath her chin.

Draco sat down with her, unsure of where to start. "Well, Myrtle, in your time, there was a boy named Tom Riddle," he began.

Myrtle grimaced with the weight of bad memories. "Oh yes, I knew him. All the girls thought he was dreamy. He never looked at me of course, unless it was to sneer at me. He liked to make fun of my hair." She touched her pigtails, pained at the memory.

"He became a very powerful Dark wizard," Draco continued, "so powerful that he is feared by everyone in the wizarding world."

"You mean You-Know-Who?" Myrtle whispered.

"Yes."

"I knew he was no good." She sniffed.

"And my parents-- well, they're part of a group of his closest followers. They're called the Death Eaters."

Myrtle nodded. "That's a frightful name," she mused.

"And me. I was made to join as well."

"You!" she growled, immediately backing away, and Draco was reminded of the disappointment in Hermione's eyes when she had first seen the Mark.

"Yes. But that's my problem. I don't want to be the servant of Voldemort... of You-Know-Who, I mean. He's a murderer. He wants to kill Hermione, he wants to kill Hermione's best friend--"

"Harry," said Myrtle, blushing.

"Yes. You see, I used to believe in what You-Know-Who believed in. But I don't anymore."

"So just tell him that," said Myrtle matter-of-factly.

Draco sighed. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"He'll kill me."

"And your parents," Myrtle said knowingly.

"Yes."

"This is the same man who wanted you to kill the Headmaster, then?"

"How did you know?"

Myrtle sniffed haughtily. "I may be miserable, but I'm not stupid!"

"I didn't mean anything by it, Myrtle."

She sighed dismally. "So what choice do you have? Stay in his service."

_Everything's so black-and white to her._ "But I'm in love with Hermione. She'll never stay with me if I stay in his service."

She moved closer to him. "Then you're going to have to take a stand, Draco," she said, in an unusually serious tone. "If you really do love her, prove it. Risk your life for her."

Slowly, he nodded. "Yes."

"Oh," she sang wistfully, "how _romantic!_ Draco's going to die for love... ooooh!" She lifted herself off the ground and flew up to her seat in the window, looking pensively out the glass.

It was apparent that she wasn't going to come back down. "Thank you, Myrtle," Draco said awkwardly, and left.

After she watched Ron mope out of the commonroom, Hermione ran to her room and seized the cloak from its hiding place. "You've been a great help," she told it fondly, and ran to deposit it in Harry's room. She stuck it in a pile of clothes in the corner, where he could have easily missed it.

"Thank Merlin for boys and their messy rooms," she said out loud, and snuck out.

"Ginny," Padma said, knocking on her doorframe. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Sure," she replied, shutting her Care of Magical Creatures book and stowing away her parchment. "What's going on?"

"It's about Hermione," Padma began.

"Oh. Malfoy," Ginny said knowingly. A surprised look crossed Padma's face. "Ron told me," she explained. "He's so upset."

"Right," Padma said, trying to ignore her feelings and focus on the problem at hand. "Well, you're friends with her, and Harry's not believing. We really need all the help we can get if we want to save her from this."

"I've noticed the way she's acting," Ginny agreed, "and it's definitely not normal. If Harry can't see that, then he's bloody blind. She's always preoccupied. And," she added with a smile, "not with her studying."

Padma chuckled.

"But," Ginny continued thoughtfully, "she does seem more cheerful. I mean I saw her today and she seemed kind of down, but everyone's bound to have their bad days. Who are we to try and change her mind if she's happy? I mean, I can't see how that git could make anyone happy-- and I especially feel bad for my brother, naturally-- but it's her choice, after all."

Padma was shocked. "You're defending her after what she did to Ron?"

"I'm just saying that we shouldn't interfere with her life," Ginny said.

"She broke your brother's heart," Padma protested. "He loved her like mad, Ginny. He deserves better than that."

Ginny looked her square in the eye. "You fancy my brother, don't you?"

Padma blushed bright red.

"You don't need to say a word, I know it's true," Ginny declared. "Look, don't be shy about it. If he feels anything for you, you'll never know it unless you ask him. It took him five years to tell Hermione he fancied her."

"What about Hermione?" Padma said, trying to change the subject.

"He'll get over her," Ginny assured her.

She sighed. "No, not that. What'll we do about Hermione?"

Ginny pursed her lips. "I still stand by my belief that it's her decision. But then again, it is Malfoy." She let out a breath. "We'll talk to her," she decided, "but if she doesn't listen, I'm not going to do anything rash to try and change her mind."

This was less than Padma had hoped for, but at least it was something. "Okay," she conceded.

Later that night, Ron and Harry were sitting in the Great Hall with bowls of crackers and their textbooks.

"This year's awful," Harry lamented, stretching out and popping a few crackers in his mouth. "And we thought the O.W.L.s were bad. The N.E.W.T.s are even worse."

"Even worse than that when you can't concentrate," Ron added.

Harry looked at him. "Are you doing alright, Ron?"

"I'm fine," he grunted, angrily flipping a page.

"You're not fine," Harry pressed.

"I don't know what I am," he said. "I don't know why I'm acting like this."

Harry sighed, thinking of Ginny. "You love her."

Ron was silent.

"It's going to be alright, Ron."

He shook his head. _"I'm _not." And he took his books and left the Hall.

Ron wandered the corridors for awhile, looking for a place to sit and think. What he really wanted was someone to talk to, but he was surrounded by people with their own agendas. His dormitory would be occupied with Neville and Seamus, Harry was in the Great Hall, Hermione would no doubt be in the library. He considered flying around on the Quidditch pitch to clear his mind, but a glance out the window told him that the Hufflepuff team had booked it for practice.

Sighing, he continued along, until he came to the second floor bathroom. Myrtle's bathroom. Maybe--

He gingerly pushed open the door, expecting her to fly down and screech at him to leave. Instead, she floated down gracefully from the window and smiled at him. "May I help you, Ronald?"

"Uh..." He was completely taken aback. "I... just wondered if I might sit and think in here. Maybe talk to you a bit."

"Oh," she sighed, "I suppose you may." She had a somewhat satisfied smile on her face as she watched him slump into a sitting position against the wall. She was feeling quite popular. _Two visits in one day!_

"So, poor Ronald," she crooned, "troubles with your girlfriend?"

His head jerked up. "How did you know?"

"Oh," she said with a smirk, "I have my ways."

He shrugged it off as one of Myrtle's many peculiarities. "She just broke up with me, and I think she might be with some foul git from Slytherin."

"The blonde boy," mused Myrtle.

"Yes," Ron said, turning around to face her. "You know something, Myrtle."

She giggled, with all the satisfaction of a small child who knows a secret.

"Tell me."

"Oh, I couldn't," Myrtle lamented. "He said I was his best friend. You never tell secrets that your best friend trusts you with."

"Who said you were his best friend?"

She giggled. "The blonde boy."

_Malfoy told Myrtle she was his best friend?_ "Look, Myrtle, Hermione may be in trouble. I need to know what he told you."

Defiantly, she shook her head. "I can't tell!" she hissed.

"Myrtle," he said firmly, "I need you to tell me. Is Malfoy with Hermione?"

She grinned. "Maybe."

His heart was beating in his chest like a caged beast. "And one more thing, Myrtle. Did you see... did Malfoy have a tattoo on his wrist?"

Myrtle's eyes flickered-- she floated up from her sitting position and edged up next to Ron. "It's dreadful," she whispered dramatically. "A big skull with a serpent tongue."

Ron sat there, stunned. "So he is a Death Eater," he whispered to himself.

"And that's not all," Myrtle sang. "They're in love, they are. And it's so romantic, he says he'll do anything to have her forever... forever!" She gleefully spun in a circle. "He's going to talk to You-Know-Who." She sighed dreamily.

Angrily, Ron scrambled to his feet. "Just so you know," he told Myrtle, his foot in the door, "Malfoy serves the man who killed you." And he slammed the door behind him.

Ron stormed off to Gryffindor tower, thundered up the stairs to his room, and began throwing things across the room that reminded him of Hermione. Just as he chucked a picture frame that held a photo of Hermione and him in Hogsmeade sharing an ice cream, Harry entered.

"Whoa," Harry said, jumping out of Ron's way. "You almost got me."

"Sorry," Ron replied.

Harry picked up the frame. "What's going on here?"

"It's true," Ron told him, "all of it-- Malfoy's been confiding in Moaning Myrtle, and I happened to get the story from her."

"And?"

"She says they're in love. She says Malfoy will do anything to keep her by his side, and he's going to talk to Voldemort for something. He's got the Dark Mark-- Myrtle saw it. She described it to me. Hermione's in trouble, Harry, and the worst part is-- I don't even know if I care!"

"Don't say that!" Harry snapped. "Don't you ever say that!"

"Well I don't!" retorted Ron, raging. "She threw me to the side, stomped all over my feelings. Why should I care what happens to her?"

"Because she's your friend!"

"Not anymore," Ron declared. "I don't care about her, I won't have anything to do with this, I refuse... oh God, she's with a Death Eater." He collapsed on the floor. "No one can save her."

"You can." Harry was adamant. "You must do something, Ron."

In the back of his mind, a nagging voice still told him to doubt Myrtle. _This can't really be happening._ He looked up at Harry with helpless eyes.

"You must."

Ron sighed, concentrating on the floorboards for an eternity. Finally, he looked up at Harry.

"Can I borrow your cloak?"


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione smiled peacefully in her sleep. She was dreaming of lying out under the stars on her old plaid fleece blanket, searching for constellations. The breeze was warm on her face and Hagrid's hut was a dot in the distance, but she was on the floor of the Astronomy Tower with a plate of cake crumbs beside her. "Cassiopeia," she was saying to her companion. "That's my favorite."

Ron snuck into the room under the protective cover of Harry's invisibility cloak. Hermione was mumbling something, and he froze immediately.

"Ursa Major, Ron," she murmured irritably, pushing her nose into the pillow and turning onto her back.

His heart leapt. _She's dreaming about me,_ he thought excitedly. _When we used to go out starwatching._

A little giggle escaped from her mouth, and her lips twitched.

_Oh, Hermione..._ Carefully, he climbed onto the bed and gently pushed her nightgown up to her waist, gasping as he realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Instinctively, he poked his hand out of the cloak and caressed her inner thigh. She shifted as a shiver ran up her spine. Almost unaware of what he was doing, he plunged two fingers inside of her, moving them in a circular motion, and her eyes fluttered. She saw no one at the foot of her bed and wondered if she was still dreaming; then, with a grin, she realized that Draco had probably stolen the cloak back from Harry. She closed her eyes and settled back into her pillows. "Mmm," she breathed, "Draco..."

_Draco!_ Immediately, Ron pulled his fingers out of her and threw off the cloak. "Do I look like that pasty-faced git?" he exploded.

"_Ron?_ Shh!" She pushed her nightgown down, looking around to make sure no one had awakened. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

He glared at her. "Obviously you were expecting someone else?"

Hermione was silent.

"I can't believe it," he sighed. "It was true all along."

She gathered her blankets to her chest and sat up. "What do you mean? Does someone else know?"

"Padma," Ron told her. "She, of course, guessed it from your stunt in Divination." He focused on the carvings in her bedside table, not wanting to look at Hermione.

Hermione held her breath. "And... and Harry, then?"

"Yeah."

She let out a sigh that carried with it the weight of the world. "Harry's going to try to get him to break up with me, isn't he?"

Ron shrugged. "He's been finding this hard to believe. But you can bet after I tell him all about this, he'll find a way to make Malfoy stay away."

Sniffling, she edged a little closer to Ron. "You're going to tell him?"

He turned on her. "You bloody right I am!"

Hermione burst into tears. Ron turned his back on her, choosing instead to concentrate on the bookshelf in the corner. He heard her searching for tissues as she sobbed, heard her softly blow her nose and try to catch her breath, heard her succumb to hysterical cries again. And he couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, Hermione," he sighed, impulsively wrapping her in a tight hug. "Shh. It's okay."

"No," she sobbed, shaking her head violently, "it's not! Oh God, I don't know what to do... he's a Death Eater, Ron, he has the Mark... but... he's changed, he has. He's not... those eyes. They were always icy cold, but now-- they're warm, and I've never felt so safe, I've never..." She broke off, wiping her eyes, and looked up at him. "I love him," she whispered. "I can't help it."

It was all he could do to hold it together. "I know, Hermione."

She sniffled. "Ron, am I out of my mind?"

He gently pressed her head to his shoulder, blinking back tears. "No," he said quietly. "No you're not."

Ron trudged into his room and threw the Invisibility Cloak at the foot of Harry's bed.

"Hey," Harry said.

"What are you doing up?" Ron said irritably.

He shrugged. "Just curious to see how things went."

"Well, to begin with, she started crying, and I couldn't stop myself from holding her." The lamp on his nightstand rattled as he jerked the drawer open and dug through its contents.

Harry nodded. "What happened?"

Sighing, Ron unwrapped a Chocolate Frog and bit its head off. "I promised to let her figure this out on her own and not to tell anyone."

Harry was livid. "You what?"

"Look, I couldn't just--"

"You could!" he exclaimed. "Ron, you don't seem to understand how serious this is."

He spiked the cardboard container on the floor. "I do!"

"Ron..."

"Look, I went in that room tonight ready to chew her out for what she did to me. I'm still plenty sore at her, you know. But when I'm around her, I automatically go soft." Exasperated, he fell onto his bed. "Bloody hell, what's wrong with me?"

"All I'm going to tell you is that you're the one she'll listen to," Harry said. "In the end, it's going to come down to you."

"I can't," Ron said simply.

"You've got to find a way to save her."

Ron glared at him. "Why can't you talk to her?"

Harry sighed. "I'm working on something else right now."

"Something more important than Hermione?" Ron glowered. "You're the one who's been saying her life's at stake."

"All of our lives are at stake, if you haven't forgotten," Harry reminded him bitterly. "Maybe if I get my work done, Hermione's choice will be easier." He glared at him, letting this sink in. "Good night."

For a moment, Ron sat up and stared across the room at his friend. _What does he mean, Hermione's choice will be easier?_ The thought weighed on his mind until his eyelids began to droop and finally, he fell asleep.

Hermione knelt at Voldemort's feet, getting branded with the Dark Mark while Draco looked on with a satisfied smile. Ron was pleading with her, begging her to fight back, to resist-- the Mark blazed bright red and she raised her wand, pointed it at Ron--

Ron awoke with a start, panting. "Hermione," he whispered. And suddenly, he knew what he had to do.

He pushed his feet into his slippers and quickly dressed, running his fingers through his hair and hastily fastening his robe.

Harry stirred, rubbing his eyes. "Where're you off to?" he mumbled.

"She's going to hate me for it, but I'm going to put a stop to this," Ron said resolutely.

He nodded. "She'll thank you in the end."

"Hope so," Ron said. "I'll be lucky if she doesn't murder me."

Sighing, Ron strolled out of Gryffindor Tower, down the hall into Arithmancy, and set his books on the table. He turned to Susan Bones and Lavender Brown.

"Hermione's dating Malfoy," he told them.

By the end of the day, the whole school was chattering about the world's unlikeliest romance.

"Did you hear?" Colin Creevey said excitedly to his brother. "Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy." Dennis stared at her as she walked past them, her face clouded.

Peeves danced down the hall behind her. "How was the Slytherin's snake, Hermione?" He howled with laughter.

Hermione turned and gave the poltergeist an icy glare.

"Really, Hermione," Dennis said, "wicked! I'd have never figured you..."

"Shut up!" she hollered, picking up her pace and running out of the Great Hall.

Meanwhile, Draco was getting bombarded in Slytherin Tower.

"Really, Draco!" Pansy was irate. "After all these years... you choose that Mudblood tramp over me?"

"She's not a tramp!" he exploded. "And don't you ever use that word near me again!"

Outraged, Blaise Zabini stepped into the conversation. "What happened to you?" he demanded.

"What's the Dark Lord going to think?" Pansy asked.

He jumped out of his chair. "I don't care what he thinks anymore! I only care about her! And if you can't respect that, I dare any one of you to cross me!"

"There's nothing to be scared of anymore," scoffed Pansy. "The Draco we knew is gone."

He pointed his wand at her. "You dare test me?"

Suddenly, the door swung open and in ran Hermione.

"There she is," sneered Pansy. She raised her wand.

_"Expelliarmus!"_ Draco shouted, and her wand flew out of her hand with a force.

Hermione ran straight into Draco's arms, paying no heed to the throng surrounding him. "What are we going to do?" she wailed.

He laid a kiss on her forehead. "Meet me in a half hour in the Astronomy Tower," he whispered in her ear. "I have something to take care of."

Draco found Crabbe and Goyle near the kitchens, their plates heaped high with chocolate cake and pastries. "Not a very good hiding place," he began, coming up behind them.

Crabbe dropped his cheese danish and turned anxiously. "Draco, I swear. It wasn't us--"

"Silence!" he roared, drawing his wand. "You two have been plotting this ever since Goyle heard Hermione under the table in Divination." Menacingly, he drew his wand from his robes.

"Slytherins let it slither in," guffawed Peeves from behind him, and Draco turned on him.

_"Petrificus totalus!"_ he yelled, and Peeves went stiff. When he turned back to Crabbe and Goyle, their eyes were round, and an evil smile crossed Draco's face. _"Incarcerous,"_ he said coolly, pointing his wand at Crabbe. Instantly, he was bound to the wall. Next, he pointed at a piece of chocolate cake. _"Wingardium leviosa,"_ he recited, and levitated the cake just out of the reach of Crabbe's mouth. Then he repeated the spell on Goyle.

"Not fair," Goyle mumbled, staring longingly at the cake.

"See you later, boys," he laughed, leaving them begging to be let out.

"You!" Hermione exploded, storming into Ron's dormitory.

He looked up innocently. "What?"

"You know very well _what!"_ She was beside herself. "How could you! You _promised_ you wouldn't tell anyone, and you tell _Lavender?_ You _knew_ the entire population of Hogwarts would know within an hour!"

"So?"

She couldn't believe how calm he was acting. _"So you did it on purpose!_ You wanted everyone to know, you bloody git! How could you do this to me?"

"Harry told me I had to find a way to get this to end," Ron told her matter-of-factly.

Hermione turned her fiery glare on Harry, who was doing homework on his bed.

"Don't look at me," he said, holding up his hands. "I wanted it to end, but I had no idea his plan was going to involve letting the whole school in on it."

She turned back to Ron. "Thanks," she said snidely. "Should have known you'd never just let me be happy for once." She turned on her heel and left.

"How can you be happy with that bloody wanker!" he called after her, shaking his head.

Ginny stepped into the room. "Nice going, Ron."

"What?"

"Is that the best idea you could come up with?"

Ron glared at her. "He bloody wasn't helping any!" he protested, nodding at Harry. "And I didn't hear any bright ideas from you either."

Ginny just shook her head. "You've still got a lot to learn about girls, Ronald." And she stalked out.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco anxiously paced the floor of the tower, awaiting Hermione. His mind was churning. It was only a matter of time before his parents would find out-- before Voldemort would find out. What would their reactions be?

Hermione pushed the door open and fled straight to Draco, who put his arms protectively around her. "It's going to be alright," he promised her, though he was unsure of what was coming for them. "I promise, angel."

"But it has to end now," she sighed, her eyes downcast. "I should have known it was too crazy to last."

"No," Draco said quietly, unclasping the silver chain from around her neck. Gently, he slid the ring onto her finger. "All this means is that people know about us now. All it means is that we'll have to fight like we never have before." He looked her in the eyes. "I love you, Hermione. I'm not giving up on us."

"Oh, Draco." Her eyes filled with tears.

A soft smile graced his lips. "Come with me."

Unafraid, Hermione placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the seventh floor. They stopped in front of the painting of Barnabas the Barmy.

"You know what this place is?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded. "The Room of Requirement."

"Walk with me, then."

Three times they walked past the blank wall, and a door appeared. Hermione glanced over at Draco, and he nodded. She turned the handle, and they entered.

"Oh..." Hermione was speechless. The last time she had been in this room, it had transformed into a Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for Harry and Dumbledore's Army. Now, it was the suite of her dreams. The carpet beneath her toes was white and soft as wisps of cloud, and the canopy bed was adorned with gold and silver swirls, creamy tulle gracing the slender posts. Gold and silver tiers, etched with designs that matched the posts, sat neatly to the side of the bed, holding flickering tealights. Most splendid of all, though, was the waterfall that emptied into a shallow pool, providing the tranquil sound of rushing water. Small lotuses rested on the glassy surface close to the edge, and Hermione smiled.

"They're my favorite flower," she whispered, pointing.

Draco leaned in to kiss her. "Let's forget everything for a moment," he said. "Let's pretend that nothing exists outside this room." Their lips met, and instantly, all the confusion clouding Draco's mind and all the anger in Hermione's heart melted away. Draco lightly lifted her and brought her to the bed, laying her down on the puffs of silver and white. He crawled in beside her and she pulled him close, running her fingers through his hair, letting her lips come like magnets to his. Slowly, they began to unfasten each other's robes, never breaking away from their kisses, tossing pieces to the side as if they were both in dreamlike trances. Eagerly, he laid his hand to her skin, trailing his fingertips from her shoulder to her hip and back again. She tangled her leg between his and brought her hand down to feel his length-- he was hard already, gently poking into her stomach.

A quiet giggle escaped her lips. "Draco," she chided playfully.

He grinned. "Sorry, angel. You turn me on."

"Then what are you waiting for?" She slid up next to him and nibbled his earlobe, making him tremble.

Draco came over her, stopping for a moment to drop several tender kisses on her chest, and slipped inside of her.

Her face twisted, then relaxed into an expression of pleasure. "You fit me just perfectly, you know," she remarked.

Leaning over to hold her, he smiled. "Just another sign," he breathed.

Hermione clenched her walls, and pulled Draco close for a kiss. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." He gazed down at her, brown eyes sparkling, a smile dancing upon her lips, and couldn't hold back a grin.

"What?"

He kissed her. "You're beautiful."

She blushed, glowing in the candlelight. "Oh, Draco."

Laying his lips to hers, he began to thrust inside of her. Her gaze drifted to the ceiling-- she loved everything about this. Not only did it feel amazing with Draco, she could feel her emotions shift into overdrive everytime he took her for his own. Draco kept his lips passionately tangled with hers until she broke away from the kiss to catch her breath. "Mmm," she moaned. "Yes..." Her eyes closed tightly as he quickened his pace.

He regarded her tenderly as he watched her face twist and release. She bit her lip, scrunching her eyebrows together, and Draco realized that her face looked beautiful in any pose or contortion. Her walls tightened again, and he reacted, his eyelids fluttering.

"God," she gasped, "you feel... you feel..." Her face was flushed. "What are you doing?"

He only smiled. "Learn later, angel. Feel now."

Hermione obeyed, concentrating on the sensations that were coursing through every atom in her body. Never before had her body reacted like this-- she was quivering from head to toe, and her fingertips tingled.

"Draco... please..." She was pleading for release, her hands kneading the silk beneath her with urgency. "Please..."

Draco, meanwhile, was getting close himself, moaning softly as she tightened her vise even more. "Oh, Hermione... be patient, love, I want us both to get there at the--" he drew in a sharp breath, hitting a good angle-- "same time..."

Nodding furiously, her bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth again as she tried to hold it together, anticipating the explosion.

"Hermione... oh, yes..."

He hit a particularly sensitive spot and her eyes flew open, just in time to see Draco's eyebrows arch skyward.

"Yes... that's it..." She braced herself, knowing that he was near release, dying to let go...

His eyes blazed and he focused on her face. "Hermione!" he groaned, and she couldn't hold on any longer. She arched her back as her body shook, sighed with satisfaction as he emptied himself inside her.

Slowly, he lowered himself onto the bed beside her, panting. She grinned at him.

"What?"

"It seems to get better every time."

It was Draco's turn to blush. "You're flattering me."

She kissed him. "I'm telling you the truth."

They threw the quilt over themselves and cuddled close, just talking and listening to the music of the waterfall. Hermione was telling Draco about the first spell she ever tried when she noticed his eyelids drooping.

"Sorry," she apologized, blushing. "Am I boring you?"

"No, not at all," Draco replied. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Hermione nodded. "I suppose it's getting late."

Draco leaned over the side of the bed, searching for his pocketwatch. When he saw the time, his eyes grew round.

"We'd better get back," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "It's late."

They dressed and said their goodbyes in the hallway, then headed off to their respective towers. Draco meandered about the halls, taking his time. He entered his dormitory full of pleasant thoughts, eager to lie down and fall asleep into dreams about Hermione. He quietly changed out of his robes into his nightclothes and lay down, pulling the covers over himself. Then--

"Ouch!" he sputtered, grabbing his forearm. "What--" He pulled his hand away and stared at his Dark Mark.

It was burning.

Voldemort was summoning him.


	11. Chapter 11

Draco landed hard on the cold ground, almost getting the wind knocked out of him. Catching his breath, he peered around. Dense fog encircled the small clearing in which he sat, and he was shivering in the cold. Just as he was wondering if he was alone, a dark, familiar figure stepped out of the fog.

"Father!" Draco exclaimed, surprised to see him. He scrambled to his feet. "What--"

Lucius Malfoy struck Draco with his staff, sending him tumbling to the ground. "Don't speak to me," he drawled through clenched teeth.

"What..."

One by one, the other Death Eaters revealed themselves, forming a menacing circle around him. He recognized his mother, whose face was a bit more forgiving than the rest of the hardened stares he was receiving. The disappointment in the faces of his fellow Death Eaters was apparent-- Crabbe and Goyle's fathers, who had always sung his praises above those of their sons', pretended as if they didn't even know him.

He was struck with fear, knowing that Voldemort's wrath would be terrible. Fooling around with a Muggle-born enemy, denouncing the Dark ways-- it was only a matter of time before he would feel the wrong end of the Cruciatus Curse, and finally-- he shuddered-- the Killing Curse.

And then--

"Draco," came a shadowed, wrathful voice.

He bowed his head. "My Lord," he responded, his voice trembling.

Voldemort circled him, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. "What should we do with you, Draco?"

Bellatrix Lestrange spoke up. "Kill him," she seethed, her eyes flashing.

"Bella! He's your nephew!" Narcissa Malfoy protested.

She shifted her glare to her sister. "That boy is no nephew of mine."

Narcissa gaped at her.

"Oh, come on, Narcissa," came another dry, familiar voice. "He knew _exactly_ what he was doing." Draco looked up to see Severus Snape glaring down at him. "What were you thinking, Draco? I watched you hate her for six years. I watched you torment that girl the way she deserved to be tormented, that self-righteous, know-it-all brat."

Draco's blood was boiling. "Don't--"

"I would advise you to keep quiet," came the voice of Lucius, along with another smack from his rod. Narcissa cringed, and Lucius gave his wife a sharp look.

Voldemort was watching this exchange with a slightly amused countenance. "Lucius," he began, "what do you think ought to be done?"

Lucius bowed his head. "My Lord, I am highly ashamed that my own son has betrayed not only my clean and reputable bloodline, but also that he has--" he clenched his teeth and glared at Draco-- _"associated--_ with one of the prime defenders of our enemy." He exchanged a glance with his wife, whose eyes were round and pleading, then turned back to Voldemort. "I think you ought to treat him like any other traitor."

Draco was horrified. His own father was giving him a death sentence?

At her husband's words, Narcissa dropped to her knees. "Please, Lord," she begged, her eyes full of tears, "have mercy on my son. I know what he did was wrong..."

Voldemort turned on her. "You went behind my back to protect your son before," he spat. "And you plead me to save him now?"

Peter Pettigrew grinned. "Kill him," he simpered. "Kill them both. Yes... _death."_

"Quiet, Wormtail!" roared Voldemort, his eyes blazing.

He retreated like a turtle into its shell. "Sorry, Master," he groveled.

Voldemort set his eyes on Draco. "Your young Hermione is a gifted witch," he told him.

_What?_ Whatever Draco had expected, it wasn't this. "She is, my Lord."

"Not only would she be useful to us," he continued, "losing her aid would be detrimental to Potter. He has depended on the girl's wit and brains too many times. Luck has been on his side, granted, but when it has not-- she has been there."

Draco nodded.

"Since you failed to complete your last task," Voldemort remarked disdainfully, "I have another for you." His eyes burned into Draco's. "You will convert her to the Dark ways. You will convince her to join us and receive the Mark."

Snape was appalled. "My Lord, with all due respect, Hermione Granger--"

"Stay out of this, Snape," snapped Voldemort.

Lucius had been about to say something regarding dirty blood, but thought better of it.

"Do you understand, Draco?"

"She'll never take to the Dark Arts," Draco declared.

"You will make her," Voldemort commanded.

Draco was unconvinced. "And if I can't?"

"You'll kill her," said Voldemort coolly. "And prove that you are loyal to your brethren and I."

He was trembling with fear, but he had to ask. "And if I don't?"

The evil grin slithered across Voldemort's face again. "I'll kill you myself."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I am so amazed at how many of you have added this story to your alerts. It makes me feel great! Please keep on with your reviews... every one I get is just a huge boost. Love you guys!! 

Draco stared out his window, watching the sun slip slowly over the horizon. He hadn't slept at all-- his whole night had been spent in deep thought, trying to sort out everything that had happened. _She wouldn't join Voldemort,_ he told himself. _Or would she?_ _Maybe with some convincing..._

He mentally slapped himself. "Stupid git," he said out loud. "She wouldn't. And you don't want her to." Digging into the deep recesses of his mind, he tried to pull out a plan that would allow both Hermione and him to escape death. _Voldemort will find us,_ he thought.

The last thing he wanted to do was admit it to himself, but there was only one thing to do. Gathering all the courage he could muster, he ran his fingers through his hair and set off down the halls to wait for Hermione outside Gryffindor Tower.

Being the singlemost hated individual by everyone inside Gryffindor Tower, he couldn't escape the insults and snide remarks that dropped from the lips of every student who stepped out the door. Slumped against the wall, he took the heat as Dennis Creevey spat at his feet and Neville told him off for corrupting Hermione. Even Dean Thomas was ready to start a fight with him, until Lavender came along and pulled him away. He suffered a cold glare from Parvati as she passed, and sighed. Finally, Hermione came out, talking with Ginny and Padma.

"He never knew how to talk to me," Hermione was saying. "Your brother, honestly--" She broke off at the sight of a disheveled and tired-looking Draco. "What... Draco, what are you doing here?"

"Look everyone, it's the lovers," groused Ron as he stepped out the door. "I think I'm going to be sick." Pointedly, he headed back inside, and Padma hurried after him.

Hermione glanced at Ginny as if to say "I told you so."

Ginny shrugged knowingly.

"We need to talk, angel," he whispered.

"About what?"

He took her hands. "Please. Not here."

Anxiety in her eyes, Hermione nodded. "Sorry, Ginny. I'll see you later."

She nodded. "No problem. I understand."

Draco took her hand and led her up to an empty sixth-floor corridor, where they sat against a wall.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

He let out the breath he'd been holding. "Hermione, after we left the Room of Requirement last night, Voldemort summoned me. He and the Death Eaters found out about us."

"Oh, no," she said softly. "What did they do?"

With tears welling in his eyes, Draco explained his father's betrayal and Voldemort's ultimatum.

Immediately, she threw her arms around him. "Draco... oh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Sobbing uncontrollably, she took up one of his hands and held it to her face. "Feel this," she wept. "This is real... I love you. I love you and I'm going to stand by you, Draco, we're going to figure this out. We'll be alright, won't we?"

He could see it in her eyes; she desperately wanted to believe herself, and Draco's heart went out to her. "Angel, first of all, none of this is your fault. And second of all... you're going to be fine. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

Sniffling, she gazed at him hopefully. "You've got a plan, then. What must I do?"

"Nothing," he replied, trying to remain strong, choking back tears.

Confusion clouded her mind. "What?"

The words wouldn't come out of his mouth; finally, he forced them.

"I'm going back to him, and I'm going to tell him exactly how I feel-- that I could never force you into something you've spent your whole life working against, that I could never let any harm come to you. I'm going to tell him I'd die first."

"You're going to let him kill you?" she wailed incredulously.

He remained silent.

"Draco, you _can't!_ I won't let you... I can't lose you..." She shook violently, realizing what was at stake.

"There is no other way." His voice was even now, matter-of-fact. He took her hands in his. "I just came to say goodbye, and to hold you one last time." He sighed, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "I love you, Hermione. Please don't ever forget that."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks in little rivers. "Draco... you can't, you won't, please... I can't be without you... don't _do _this, there has to be another way..."

"There's not, angel."

She was hysterical, but she was still Hermione, and beneath the tears and imbalance there was a strong will and an unmatched dedication. Almost unaware of what she was doing, she slid her wand out and pointed it smoothly at Draco. _"Petrificus totalus,"_ she whispered, and Draco's body went rigid. She apologized over and over as she dragged him into the nearest room. "I'm so sorry, but it's the only way I could stop you." She kissed his forehead. "I'm going to find a way to save us both," she whispered, and slipped out the door.

"Sorry!" Hermione called on the fly to Parvati, whom she almost knocked over. She was on a dead run to Gryffindor Tower to seek help from the only people who'd always been there for her. Barely acknowledging Colin and his camera, she tore through the commonroom and up the stairs to Harry and Ron's dormitory.

"Thank heavens," she said breathlessly, "I need to talk to you both."

Ron pretended to be engrossed in his text.

Angrily, Hermione stalked over and shut Ron's book for him. "If you want to continue acting like a first year, fine with me. But then at least get out of the room so I can talk to Harry. I'm in serious trouble, and I'm in no mood for child's games."

"Ron," Harry reproached, willing him to stay.

He was not pleased. "Fine," he grunted, turning away from the wall.

Sighing, Hermione found a seat on Harry's bed. "Voldemort has taken an interest in me."

"Wonder why," Ron muttered.

_"Ronald!"_ Hermione was flustered, and Harry glared at him. _"Anyway,"_ she continued pointedly, "Draco's been told to convert me or kill me. And if he doesn't succeed in one of those missions... Voldemort's going to kill _him._"

Harry wisely refrained from telling Hermione that the world would probably be better off without Draco Malfoy. "What are you asking us, Hermione?"

A solitary tear rolled down her cheek. "I've always helped you in the past," she began timidly, "been there for you when you needed me..."

"Just ask, Hermione."

"Harry, I know it sounds crazy, but please believe me when I tell you that he has changed. He's not the cold, impenetrable Malfoy we once loathed. He's not the murderer that he's being made out to be. He has changed."

"Hermione." Harry was coaxing her now.

"Help us, Harry." She gazed across the room. "Ron. Please. You two are the only ones who can help us. I know..." She got up and knelt in front of Ron, who immediately turned his head. "You have every right to be angry at me, Ron. I cheated on you, and I don't ever expect you to forgive me. It was horrible of me, and not a day goes by where I don't kick myself for hurting you. I know I don't deserve your friendship... but please, if even one tiny ounce of you still cares for me, please help me."

Ron looked her in the eyes. They were filled with genuine sincerity, and as much as he hated to admit it, his heart was breaking to see her like this. She was in love, and she was desperate. "Okay," he said quietly. "I'll help."

A relieved smile came over her face, and she hugged Ron on impulse. "Thank you," she whispered tearfully.

Overwhelmed, Ron simply nodded. "So what do we do?" he asked, while Hermione settled back down on the bed.

"He's in danger wherever he is right now," Harry told her. "Do you know where he is?"

Hermione nodded. "I put the full-body bind on him to keep him from sacrificing himself to Voldemort," she confessed. "He's on the sixth floor."

"We'll bring him back here until we figure out a plan," Harry decided. "C'mon, Ron. Let's go get him."

All three friends missed breakfast to bring Draco back to Gryffindor Tower. It had been decided on the way to the sixth floor that it would be better to bring him back while he was still under the spell so that he couldn't fight-- Hermione tearfully told the story of how he had been willing to die for her, and figured he wouldn't go willingly.

Hermione wrapped her fingers around his hand and stayed right beside him the whole way. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "but it's for us. You're going to be okay, Draco. We're going to be okay."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione bravely made their way through the commonroom, ignoring the shocked looks and low whispers of the sparsely scattered students. They laid Draco out on Harry's bed as soon as they entered the dormitory, and Hermione drew her wand.

_"Finite incantatem,"_ she said quietly, touching her wand gently to his arm.

Draco stretched out and turned to Hermione. "I wouldn't have run from you," he whispered. "I would have trusted you."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I was scared."

"I know." He reached for her, and they embraced. Sitting up, he acknowledged her friends.

"Harry," he said tentatively. "Ron."

"Draco," Harry returned, taking a big step in using his first name. Ron merely nodded.

He let out a breath. "Look, I just want to apologize for everything I've ever done to you two... I know that if I tried to list all the things I've done, we'd be here for ages. And a lot of it is unforgivable. Really though... please believe me, I am sorry."

Harry nodded. "Sometimes we have to forgive and forget," he said slowly. "As for protection from Voldemort... I don't know what we can do yet, but we'll think of something. Until then, I think it's best that you and Hermione both stay here together when you're not in class."

"I appreciate it, mate." He was humbled, benign, a side that Harry had never seen before.

"Anytime," Harry replied.

"We ought to get to class," Ron pointed out.

Draco nodded. "I want to thank you guys again," he said, "really."

Hermione kissed him on impulse. "We'll be safe," she assured him. "I have the best two friends anyone could ask for. I know they'll do everything in their power."

Despite himself, Ron smiled a tiny bit.

Later that night, the four now-roommates were lying in Ron and Harry's dormitory. Draco and Hermione were clasping each other as if they could be torn apart at any moment, sleeping peacefully on Harry's bed. Meanwhile, Harry was finding it hard to get to sleep on the hard floor.

"Ron," he hissed, "you awake?"

Ron wasn't having any more luck than Harry. "Yeah," he whispered back.

Harry sat up. "I can't get it off my mind."

"Me neither."

"I don't know what we're going to do for them, Ron."

"If you don't have a plan, what are we going to do?"

Harry turned in surprise. "You sound genuinely worried, Ron. Are you telling me you're actually going to be involved in this now?"

He slumped down onto his pillow. "All I want is for her to be happy. And if this is what she wants--" he shrugged as if to say, "well, what can you do?"

"Yeah." Harry sighed.

"Just look at them." Ron longingly gazed at the bed across from his. "Do you see the look on her face? Somehow she's found happiness with him, and I just can't question it."

Harry watched Hermione for a moment, the corners of her mouth curving just the slightest bit upward to create a tranquil expression. He wondered what she could be dreaming about. He found himself thinking about all the rough times he'd been through, about all the times Hermione had been there to save him. Fondly, he recalled the days of Dumbledore's Army, the D.A., which Hermione had helped convince him to start. It was lucky, too, as he needed the D.A. when he was lured to the Ministry--

_Of course!_

"The D.A.," Harry hissed excitedly.

Ron was falling asleep. "What?"

"The D.A.!" he exclaimed, getting up to shake his friend. "Ron, don't you see? They came to our aid at the Ministry. The members who are left here will come through for Hermione now."

"I dunno," Ron mused. "Plenty of them think Malfoy's a foul git, you know."

"So we'll tell them different," Harry pressed. "We'll clear his name."

A tiny smile forced its way onto Ron's face. "That's a right lot of clearing to do, you realize."

Harry chuckled.

"So what'll we do with the D.A.?" Ron wanted to know. "How are we going to use them?"

"Voldemort wants war," Harry said gravely. "He wants to kill me, he wants Hermione to join the Dark ranks, he's ready to kill Malfoy. He thirsts for death. He killed my parents. He was directly behind Dumbledore's death." As the words passed his lips, his eyes flashed. "I know several members of the D.A.-- Neville, for one-- who would be glad to get the chance to fight Voldemort." He looked over at Neville, who was fast asleep in his bed, and remembered seeing Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom in St. Mungo's. "Voldemort's been behind the deaths and damages suffered by thousands of good wizarding families." He fixed his gaze back on his bed. "Hermione and Draco will be the catalyst," he decreed. "They will be the last in the long line of Voldemort's victims. We are going to avenge, and we are going to set free."

Ron thought of Susan Bones and her mother Amelia. "They'll all get their shot," he mused, slowly beginning to understand. "Yes. This has been a long time coming."

Harry's eyelids were pressed together. He was thinking about his own mother, and how it was believed that her love for him saved his life. "Voldemort should have learned," he said roughly, "that even his darkest tricks don't work against real love." He turned to Ron. "We cannot let anything happen to her."

There was no hesitation this time. "We won't let anything happen to _either_ of them."


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione, once the most studious pupil in Hogwarts, sat in Professor Sprout's class with a vacant expression on her face. Professor Sprout was lecturing on several different plants they'd be using in the next few weeks, and Hermione didn't have so much as a quill out to take notes with.

"I asked, does anyone know what country the star-petalled indiflower originated in?" She looked pointedly at Hermione, who could always be counted on for an answer. Hermione, not paying any attention, remained silent.

"Miss Granger?" Professor Sprout said. "Could you tell us what country the star-petalled indiflower comes from?"

Startled out of her thoughts, she turned to the professor. "No," she said quietly, her mind clouded.

Professor Sprout was shocked. "Are you alright?" she asked, truly concerned. A few of the students snickered.

Hermione forced a smile. "I'm fine," she lied. As Professor Sprout gave her a skeptical look and continued on with her lesson, she spaced out again. Doubts were racing through her mind about whether Harry and Ron would be the allies she was hoping for or not. Ron was obviously still sore at her for cheating. Harry, meanwhile, was a good friend, but she wondered if he really just wanted to get rid of Draco. Surely Harry couldn't have just made amends with his mortal enemy so easily, could he? She thought of Snape, and how a handful of students had their suspicions about his intentions, insisting that he would have never killed Dumbledore unless the Headmaster himself had ordered him to do it. Maybe Dumbledore had passed some of his odd wisdom and trust down to Harry.

And what of Snape, anyway? If he really was a servant of Lord Voldemort, he'd lived a decent life for several years, spying from a Hogwarts teaching position. Perhaps she could do something similar-- become a teacher at Hogwarts, agree to supply information to Voldemort, settle down with Draco. It was only a matter of time before Harry defeated Voldemort anyway, right? And Harry would know why she'd done it... he'd never let any harm come to her...

Another revelation interrupted her train of thought. _Voldemort is impressed with me. He may be the very essence of evil-- but for a wizard that powerful to say that I am talented?_ She admitted to herself that it was very flattering. _No one recognizes my talents but Hagrid, Harry, and Ron. Not even Dumbledore-- Harry gets the recognition-- even Ron received a special award for service to the school in our second year! I was the one who figured it out-- they'd never have figured it out if it weren't for me-- and I get _no_ recognition. Maybe with Voldemort I'd get some credit..._

The more she thought about it, the better it sounded. No more running from the Dark side, some well-deserved recognition and appreciation, a life with Draco-- even the teaching position would be honorable, and she was sure that Headmaster McGonagall would give it to her.

_Yes,_ she thought. _Why not? I can do this. There won't be a war for Draco and me. _With a smile, she turned to Professor Sprout and raised her hand.

"The yellow petals on the Coniflower paralyze the witch or wizard who takes even the smallest whiff of its fragrance. It is found mostly in the northern regions of Asia, though patches have been found in northern Europe and even as far south as France. The first recorded use was in 1329 when Garulf Swindalyein used it to fix a Quidditch match..."

Meanwhile, Draco's mind was wandering in his Potions class. Goyle had refused to sit next to him on principle, so he wound up next to Neville Longbottom. After a strict warning not to hurt Hermione, they actually had found some common interests-- Neville spent five minutes chattering about the rare and priceless Livagibera cactus, which actually grew in the mountains of Italy. Draco told him that his aunt had given him one last year after she took a holiday in Italy. The aunt in question had been Bellatrix, and since she had been so eager to have him killed, he figured he didn't want any reminders of the woman sitting around. He promised Neville that he would retrieve it from his dormitory in Slytherin Tower after class and give it to him. Neville was overjoyed. "You know, you're not such a bad bloke after all," he had said, smiling.

Draco had laughed. "I'm trying to change."

Class started then, cutting their conversation short. Following Hermione's example, he took careful notes and paid attention to the professor, learning the proper way to create Onwacorus. As he wrote down ingredients, he realized something important was missing.

"Uh, Professor?" He raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"What exactly does this potion _do?"_

The professor laughed. "Oh goodness. Where has my mind gone? Onwacorus is a potion that all you seventh-years may find useful in the coming months."

The class was puzzled. "Will it give me the answers to my N.E.W.T. exams?" Blaise Zabini wanted to know.

"No, but it may help you learn them," replied the professor with a smile. "It allows you to stay awake with no need for rest for forty-eight hours."

"Perfect," Neville said aside to Draco. "Hermione's going to love this."

Draco laughed, knowing all too well that it was true.

"You're going to work in groups of four for this," the Potions master decreed, "as we're short on supplies right now. Gather around a cauldron in your groups, and get started."

Draco usually worked with Crabbe, Goyle, or Blaise. Knowing that they wouldn't want him, he looked around, feeling quite alone.

Harry, Ron, and Neville were already standing around a cauldron. "Hey, Malfoy," Harry called. "Want to join us?"

"Sure!" Pleasantly surprised, he headed over to their cauldron.

Ron stared at the few notes he'd scrawled. "So where do we begin?"

Harry leaned over and read what Ron had written. "Bluebird eggshells, crushed dandelions, sunflower oil, thistle milk, Russian red dragon scales, powdered ginger root, and live ladybugs."

"I've got the measurements," Neville put in helpfully.

"I tried writing the directions down," Harry said, "but he was going too fast. This isn't in our book, is it?"

Ron forlornly shook his head. "I can't afford another bad grade in this class."

Since Snape had vacated the position, Harry had found he was actually pretty good in Potions. "Well, let's see if we can't play it by ear a little bit."

"Start with the sunflower oil and the thistle milk," Draco told them. "They have to completely blend together. Stir it for two minutes, that should do it. Then we'll add the ladybugs and let it stand until the ladybugs burst. After that, we stew in the eggshells and dandelions, then add the dragon scales and ginger root."

"Where are you getting this from?" Neville asked.

Draco showed him the parchment he'd written the directions down on.

"Bloody brilliant," Ron approved, grabbing vials from the cabinet. "Let's get on with it then."

The foursome started work on their potion, each doing what they were best at-- Harry timed and stirred, Neville measured, Ron retrieved ingredients, and Draco gave directions. By the end of class, they had a thick, disgusting-looking yellow liquid that turned out to be exactly what the professor was looking for.

"Wonderful!" he said upon seeing their potion. "Well done. Five points for each of you."

Draco almost asked him if his five points could just be awarded to Gryffindor. Reflecting on the day's events, he was feeling more at home in their tower than in his own. Even Ginny had offered him a smile and a handful of some coveted sweets from her brothers' joke shop earlier in the day.

After class, Draco made his way to Slytherin Tower to retrieve some personal effects and, of course, the Livagibera for Neville. He strolled into the commonroom, ignoring the dirty looks from all the Slytherins who thought he was a traitor.

"What are you doing here?" asked Crabbe snidely. He was lounging on his bed with the latest issue of his favorite comic book and a bag of chocolate. "Where's your girlfriend?"

Draco glared at him. "Sod off, Crabbe."

He smirked back at him. "Heard about Voldemort's demand," he said casually.

Furiously, Draco whirled around. "How?"

Crabbe licked his fingers off. "Owl from my father. Goyle and I had a good laugh last night."

Indignant, Draco lifted his wand, but thought better of it. Instead, he threw a few items into a pillowcase and grabbed the cactus. "I hope," he said levelly to Crabbe, "that both you and your father are dead the next time I see you. And I hope you're lying right next to Voldemort's dead body." With that, he turned and marched out of the tower.

In hindsight, Draco thought, it probably wasn't the best thing to tell Crabbe-- now that he knew Draco wanted Voldemort dead, he would no doubt send an owl to his father, who would relay the message to the Dark Lord.

_But,_ he realized, _it's true. I _do_ want Voldemort dead._ Walking down the corridors to the now-familiar Gryffindor Tower, he recognized his anger, knowing his hate was requited. _He tried to make me kill Dumbledore. He wants me to destroy Hermione. And my parents are slaves to his will._ Suddenly, all his pride vanished, and he was filled with shame. _Bloody hell... my parents are awful people. My father was going to let Voldemort kill me!_ Suddenly he was aware of how much he wanted Voldemort gone from this world forever. And he wanted to be the one to kill him.

Upon coming to the portrait of the Fat Lady, he straightened. Hermione awaited him on the other side. And she would be forever there for him. The Dark ways and the mark on his arm seemed like distant memories, replaced by a bright future that sparkled with promise. _I am rescued._

Hermione was pacing the floor of Harry's dormitory when Draco entered, holding his pillowcase and his cactus. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the plant. "What on earth is that?"

"A rare species of cactus," Draco told her, putting his things down and settling down on Harry's bed. "It's for Neville."

She nodded. "Draco, I've found a solution to our problem," she declared.

He motioned for her to sit down on the bed next to him, and she did. "Go on."

Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat and looked straight at him. "I'm going to do it," she told him firmly. "Tell Voldemort I'm ready to be branded with the Dark Mark."


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione sat there for what seemed like an eternity, watching his eyes for a reaction. When it was apparent that she wasn't going to get one, her words began to spill out and tumble over one another. "I could be a teacher here, Draco... you and I could settle down... it'd only be until Voldemort's defeated, I could spy for him... he recognized my talent, Draco. I'll do it for you. I will." She took a deep breath, and was surprised to find that she wasn't shaking.

Draco held her firmly by the shoulders. "Hermione..." he began, then realized that no words could possibly describe the transformation he'd been through in just a few days. He pulled up his sleeve. "I have to carry this here for the rest of my life," he told her, pointing at his wrist. Then, moving his hand to his heart: "But I don't have to carry it here." He gazed plainly into her eyes. "I don't want to be a part of that world anymore. My whole life I've been true to the ways my father taught me, proud of something that was a facade for his true self. And you... Hermione, you brought me into the light. I can see now how wrong my father was. How evil Voldemort really is. And I'm ready to be rid of it forever." Taking up her hands, he kissed them. "The last thing I would want, Hermione, is to get you involved in the very thing I want to escape."

Shocked, Hermione stared back at him. "You can't just walk away from Voldemort. What are you going to do?"

He let out a long sigh. "I'm going to duel with him."

"You can't," Hermione said plainly. "You won't win."

Draco looked hurt.

"No," she quickly corrected, "that's not what I meant. I have faith in your skill, Draco, but there's only one person that can kill Voldemort."

"Dumbledore's gone," he reminded her.

Hermione shook her head. "Not Dumbledore. Harry."

"Why him?"

"There was-- a prophecy made a long time ago," Hermione explained. "The night that Harry's parents were killed, some of Voldemort's powers transferred to Harry. He's the only one powerful enough to defeat him."

"It's true," came a voice from behind him, and Draco turned to see Harry standing in the doorway. He came into the room and leaned against the wall opposite the two. "One of us is going to die before the end of all this-- either me or Voldemort."

Draco was crestfallen. "I can still try," he pressed, desperately wanting his chance to kill the person who'd caused him so much pain.

"You'll die," Harry told him matter-of-factly. "He'll kill everyone else."

Hermione put her hand gently on Draco's arm. "Harry's faced him and survived more times than any wizard," she reminded him.

"I know." Sighing, he turned to Harry, the wordless question painted on his face.

Harry nodded. "I can't put it off any longer," he said. "The final battle is coming, and I can't run from it. I won't run from it."

"What about the Horcruxes?" Hermione interjected.

"Haven't you wondered why I've skipped all the Hogsmeade trips?" Harry asked her. "Or what I was doing over the holidays? I've been searching for the rest of them."

"Why didn't you tell Ron and me?" She was outraged. "We would have helped you!"

"Exactly," Harry said flatly. "I didn't want to put you in danger."

"I'm coming with you on your next search," Hermione declared.

"It won't be necessary. I've found and destroyed them all."

"Then how is he still alive?" Draco asked, who knew all about Voldemort's methods of survival from his father's bedtime stories.

"The embodied Voldemort holds the last fragment of his soul," Harry told him. "If I defeat him, he will be gone for good."

_"When_ you defeat him," Hermione corrected hastily.

Draco stood. "You're not going alone," he said. "I'm going to back you up."

"And me," Hermione echoed, jumping to her feet.

Harry felt oddly reassured by Draco's adamant support. "Ron's already told me that he'd accompany me, so that makes four. Plus, I'm going to send owls to the Order of the Phoenix. And--"

Hermione, feeling the communication that only best friends share, went to the jewelry box she'd brought from her dormitory and brought out the fake Galleon that was the means to summon Dumbledore's Army. "You'll be needing this, won't you?"

Harry opened his hand and she dropped it into his palm. "Thank you."

Draco put an arm around Hermione's waist then, and Harry picked up an armload of books and parchment. "Two classes to go," he said knowingly, "both with Ron and Neville." He gave them a wave as he headed out the door.

As soon as he was out of sight, they scrambled to get under the covers and flung their clothes off as fast as their fingers could move. Within seconds, they were locked tightly to each other, sharing kisses as if they were oxygen. Their hands traveled each other's skin desperately, trying to cover every inch of flesh, consuming each other with their desire.

"Draco," Hermione whispered, hungrily drawing a line across his collarbone with her tongue, scratching her nails lightly across his pelvis, pressing up against him. He took her in his arms and came down at her from above, spreading kisses across her chest, on her neck. One hand held her head gently, the other trailed down her side, sending her into delirium as two of his fingers slipped quickly inside of her. All of a sudden, he dropped his face down, replacing his fingers with his tongue, plunging inside of her as far as he could. A squeal escaped her lips and her eyes danced, relishing the insatiable way Draco delved into her core. He slipped his tongue out, and Hermione suffered a moment's disappointment until she realized he wasn't going anywhere-- remaining between her thighs, he carefully enveloped one of her lips and sucked it gently for what seemed like forever. Teasingly, he hovered above her center for a moment, then gathered her other lip into his mouth, tracing the outline delicately with his tongue. Moving on from there, he let his tongue trail the creases of her inner thighs and the top of her pelvis, following the trapezoidal shape with a torturously light line right over her slit.

"Oh, please," she entreated, "please..."

Draco's impish eyes peeked out at her from below her stomach, and just as she was about to beg him again, he wrapped his lips around her clit and wouldn't let go. His tongue flicked over her at such a rapid rate that she didn't know whether she would be able to keep her hips from bucking and hitting him in the face. "Hold me down," she told him breathlessly. "My hips-- hold them down..."

He did as she asked, placing his strong hands on either side of her, not letting up for the slightest second. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she clutched the sheets desperately, trying to keep her voice down, craving release, she was getting so close--

Close to being numb, she could feel the oncoming explosion. "I'm going to come, Draco... I'm going to come..." And no sooner than the warning had escaped her lips, she exploded into his mouth, and Draco thirstily swallowed every bit of her.

Hermione let out a breath. "Oh, Draco. That tongue..." She inhaled sharply as Draco slid easily into her, hard as metal. Her eyes flew wide open. "Oh..."

Draco bent over, gripping the bedrail for support. "Hermione. You're so wet."

She smiled. "From what you just did to me," she whispered. Holding his gaze, she laid out her wish. "Slam me," she said simply.

He growled and, with a wicked grin, began to drill Hermione relentlessly into the bed. She moaned, silently willing her body to be strong as he lifted her legs high into the air. "Draco," she breathed, clamping her eyelids together. Sweat dripping from his forehead, he pounded her as hard as he could thrust, watching in ecstasy as she reached orgasm, a silent scream painted on her face. As soon as she'd peaked, her eyes fell open just in time to watch Draco come to climax, his eyes shaking, fingers gripping the bedrail so hard that they were white. He erupted inside of her and collapsed at her side, panting.

Hermione immediately covered them with Harry's huge quilt, then rolled over and gave him a hug and a kiss. He chuckled, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I still can't believe you were willing to go to the Dark side for me," he mused, playing with her hair.

"Well, I love you," she said matter-of-factly. "You matter more than anything else to me."

Draco enfolded her in his arms and clasped her tightly. "And you to me," he whispered solemnly. "Hermione... if I don't make it..."

She put a finger to his lips. "Don't say such things," she reprimanded. "We're both going to make it. And once this is over, we're going to start our lives together." She sidled up next to him and closed her eyes, fully confident and comfortable.

Draco sighed, wishing he could feel as certain as Hermione. He turned to face her, smiling gently at her peaceful face. All of a sudden his eyelids began to feel heavy, and he let out a giant yawn. Too exhausted to stop himself, he let his eyes fall closed; the last thing he saw before falling asleep was the silver ring on Hermione's left ring finger.


	15. Chapter 15

Back in their pajamas, Hermione and Draco sat on the floor of the dormitory, helping Harry write notes to send to the members of the Order.

"What'll we do about the members of the D.A. that aren't at Hogwarts anymore?" Hermione wondered out loud, sealing a letter to Remus Lupin.

"Like?" Harry took the note from her and put it on the growing pile.

"Katie Bell, Angelina, Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnet, Cho..." She trailed off.

"Well, I suppose they'll get owls instead of glowing Galleons." He smiled.

Draco took a fresh notecard. "You're going to empty the Owlery," he remarked, glancing at the pile of letters.

"For a good cause," Harry replied.

Draco's eyes flashed. "The best."

Harry could stand the curiosity no longer. "Draco, I have to ask you. What made you change your mind so suddenly? I mean...all of a sudden you're so eager to join the fight against Voldemort..." He was thinking of Snape, of course, wondering if Voldemort was trying to install another spy within Hogwarts' walls.

"Well... I guess after he summoned me to a council one night, where my father and my aunt were both ready and willing to watch me die, and then he wanted me to murder both Dumbledore and my girlfriend..." He shifted. "I just wanted to make my father proud," he admitted quietly. "Now I know better."

Hermione gave him a kiss and a big hug, trying to comfort him. "I'm going to go get the D.A. list from my room," she announced, leaving Draco and Harry sitting together.

"I'm sure they didn't want you dead," Harry said oddly, after a period of silence.

Draco shook his head. "The words out of my aunt's mouth were "kill him."

"Oh." He wasn't sure what to say. Suddenly, the Dursleys seemed angelic. No matter how much his Aunt Petunia despised him, he'd never received a death threat before.

"It's alright," Draco sighed. "I guess I had it coming."

Before Harry could say anything, Hermione bounded into the room with a sheet of parchment. "Found it!" Beaming, she thrust the list into Harry's lap.

Harry looked over the list. "This isn't complete."

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean? We only had one list..."

He slid it over to Draco. "It's missing the signature of our newest member."

Astounded, he looked up. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "You're a part of this fight now. You're one of us."

Flushed with pride, Draco took up his quill and signed his name with a flourish.

The next few days at Hogwarts were achingly long. The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix had converged at Grimmauld Place and sent an owl to Harry, telling him that they would be showing up at Hogwarts at any time within the next few days, and that the D.A. should be ready to go at a moment's notice. The D.A. students that still attended Hogwarts began to gravitate toward each other when they weren't in class, taking up a large section of table space in the Great Hall for every meal, gathering in the library and sharing stories to try and put the imminent task out of their minds.

"So guess what Professor Trelawney predicted for Draco and I today?" Hermione began, a smile playing on her face.

The D.A. had removed themselves to the library after having supper. She was relaxing, her feet up on the couch, leaning against Draco, whose arm was around her.

Padma chuckled, already in the know.

"Let me guess," Harry laughed. "A gruesome death?"

"Not only that," Draco chimed in, "but she's agreeing with my 'prophecy' that Hermione's going to kill me."

Ginny burst out laughing. "You mean you didn't tell her what was really going on that day?"

Draco and Hermione both turned bright red. "Ginny!" she admonished.

He turned to Hermione. "You told her?"

Trying to hold back her giggles, Hermione faced him. "Hey, that was an achievement," she managed. "I had to tell someone of my success."

"What else does she know?" Draco asked.

Hermione turned even redder and Ginny burst out into laughter.

"What?" he demanded, but a smile was creeping over his face.

Once she had calmed down enough to talk, Ginny looked at him levelly. "Pretty much _everything."_

Harry shook his head. _Sweet little Hermione has grown into a bit of an adventurer,_ he thought, bemused. "So how's Hermione supposed to die?"

"Bludger to the head," Padma told him with a roll of her eyes.

Ron laughed. "Hermione doesn't even play Quidditch!"

"We tried telling her that," Lavender put in. "All she would say--"

Padma waved her hands in the air and shook her eyes, imitating Professor Trelawney. "There is doom in your future, Miss Granger... the Grim... _doom!"_

They all laughed, and Ron pelted her with a pillow. "Great impression."

She blushed. "Thanks."

Standing up, Colin raised his camera and snapped a picture.

"Bloody hell," groused Justin Finch-Fletchley, raising a hand to his eyes. "Warn a bloke, would you?"

"Sorry," Colin apologized. "I just wanted a photo of us all, in case..." He trailed off.

They all knew what the end of the sentence was, but none of them wanted to complete it for him.

"Time to face reality," Zacharias Smith said after a period of silence. "We're not all going to survive this war, you know."

Hannah Abbott shook her head. "Don't say that," she said softly.

"Think of the odds," he pressed.

"Hannah's right," Harry said. "We can't be pessimistic. Before we know it, Voldemort will be defeated and we'll be back here, embarrassing Hermione and Draco and making fun of Professor Trelawney."

Terry Boot nodded emphatically. "We're going to go down in history, kids," he mused, a faroff look in his eye. "Part of the group that took down Voldemort. Famous, we'll be."

"And even if we do go down," Ron said, "we'll go down fighting by each other's sides. The D.A. always sticks together."

Draco cleared his throat. "And on that note, in case we don't all make it... I wanted to say thank you. I don't have a family anymore, and you've given me one here. How you forgave me, I don't know, but thank you." Hermione squeezed his hand, and he smiled.

Padma stole a glance at Ron, whose eyes were sparkling with an intent resolution. _Everyone else is speaking their peace,_ she thought. _Why can't I tell him that I love him?_ She urged herself on, trying to pluck up enough courage to say the words she'd been wanting to say for a long time now. Before she added her confession to the list, however, Hermione began talking practically.

"The Order hasn't sent any word since their owl to Harry," Hermione began, "but we think that they'll be coming soon. Everyone be sure to have their Galleons at all times-- it's crucial that all of us be there to fight Voldemort and the Death Eaters." She lifted her eyes to the clock. "We all better be getting to our houses," she sighed. "Stay alert."

Dumbledore's Army rose from their spots and scattered. Hermione and Draco took their time, ambling down the long hallways, standing on sections of stairs just waiting for them to move so they had an excuse to walk more.

"Strange to think that our days in this castle are coming to a close," Draco said sadly, gazing at the portraits lining the walls.

Hermione nodded. "I'm going to miss it," she sighed.

"Maybe you should come back and teach," Draco suggested gently, hooking his fingers into hers. "You'd be great at it."

"Me," she said dismissively, "I'm not smart enough to teach here." She was being modest, and they both knew it.

"Pumice grandeur," said Hermione to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and the door swung open, bidding them welcome. They tiptoed through the commonroom and up to Harry and Ron's dorm.

"Asleep already," Draco whispered, nodding at them. Harry was on the floor, nearly snoring; Ron appeared to be in a deep sleep.

She smiled. "We'll still close the curtains."

With a grin, Draco pulled the drapes snugly around the four-poster bed, enclosing Hermione and himself in a cocoon of darkness. As they took off each other's clothes, their eyes adjusted just enough to see each other in the dim moonlight that barely penetrated the thick curtains.

They slid beneath the covers and held each other tight, letting their lips come together in a whirlwind ballet.

"These last weeks," Hermione whispered between kisses, "have been unbelievable."

"You're the best thing that could have happened to me," Draco affirmed. Ardently, he enveloped her in his arms and pressed against her. "I never knew I needed you until you came to me."

"Oh, Draco." She laid her lips to his again, letting one hand travel south, cupping him in her palm.

"This may be our last," he reminded her, smoothing a lock of hair from her face.

Tears sprang to her eyes. She'd been afraid of this since they pledged to fight Voldemort. "Then hold me," she said, "and make love to me-- and in the seconds before I die, when my life flashes before my eyes, I'll remember this and be at peace."

He was moved to tears. "Hermione," he whispered. "I'll die before I let him touch you."

"And if you fall, I'll fall with you," she vowed. "I can't live without you, Draco."

Wordlessly, he pressed his lips to hers, cupping her face with both hands, yearning to be able to let her feel everything he was feeling through their kisses. Holding her, he slipped inside her as passionately and gently as if it were her first time. He swayed her slowly, keeping a steady, hypnotizing rhythm, savoring the ebb and flow of the ocean inside of her. Their lips met and detached, over and over, like hummingbirds sipping nectar-- flitting and fulfilling.

She moaned softly, clutching the puffs of cotton beneath her, losing all awareness of anything else-- in this moment, there was only Draco. Only her. Her eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings, matching her heartbeat, telling Draco in silent syllables that she was in heaven.

"Angel," he whispered breathlessly, losing himself in the rapturous expressions on Hermione's face. He couldn't take his eyes off her beauty, her glowing skin-- his ears absorbed every sound she made, etching every moan and sigh into his mind like runes into stone.

And she, she felt her heart beat faster, gazing up into the eyes of this man whom she'd given everything to-- her lover, her solace, her world. Her eyes closed as Draco leaned slightly back, grazing the spot inside of her, sending shivers through her body and a tingling sensation into her fingers. She was getting closer with every plunge, inhaling sharply, pushing the heels of her hands and feet helplessly against the bedclothes as he kept his rhythm, in and out, driving her to the brink.

She bit her lip. "Please," she whispered, "I'm so close..."

Draco bent to kiss her rose-petalled face, flushed with heat and pleasure, and hastened his pace. Reacting immediately, she took a sharp breath, and her eyes flew open, sparkling at the bliss she was in. He remained there, hovering above her, so close that their chests almost touched; and when he leaned back again, Hermione's eyes flashed.

She let out an involuntary moan. "Draco..." she breathed, looking up into his eyes; he was concentrating intently on hitting her spot, and within seconds, her back was arched and she was doing her best to muffle her moans. And before she'd finished, he came in a magnificent explosion, coating her insides with every ounce of himself.

They collapsed together in a tangle of love and skin and sweat, holding each other as if the world were ending at that very moment. No words were needed-- their eyes said it all.

"I don't want to lose you," Hermione said breathlessly.

Draco fumbled for her hands, looking her straight in the eye. "You won't."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N... Two more chapters on the way.

...and maybe a sequel...

As Hermione and Draco fell asleep in each other's arms, Ron swung his legs over the edge of his bed. _Wasn't enough that they had to talk about it earlier,_ he groused to himself. _They just had to shag while I was in the room._ Shoving his feet into his slippers, he got out of bed and grabbed a couple of Chocolate Frogs from his bedside table, figuring he'd sit by the fire in the Commonroom for awhile to calm his temper. Ginny's words from awhile back echoed in his ear, chalking his anger up to jealousy because of his lack of experience with girls. _I lost my virginity to Hermione,_ he told himself, trying to push the nagging thoughts from his mind. _I'm not inexperienced anymore. _In his annoyance, he nearly tripped over the last step into the commonroom.

"Bloody hell!" he said out loud.

A shape rose from the couch in front of the crackling fire. "Ron?"

Ron peered across the room. "Padma?"

"What are you doing up?" she asked.

"Hermione and Draco..." He sighed, not wanting to finish the sentence. "They were..."

"I understand," Padma said.

"Can I come sit with you?" Ron asked her.

"Sure," she replied, sounding somewhat surprised. He crossed the room and settled down on the other end of the couch. "I've got a couple Chocolate Frogs, if you want one," he offered.

She took one and pulled the cord. "Thanks," she said. They sat in silence for a few moments, nibbling at their chocolate and watching the fire.

"So why are you out of bed?" Ron wondered out loud.

Padma sighed. _This is your chance,_ she told herself. _No one else is around. Just tell him..._

"Couldn't sleep?"

She nodded. "I was kind of shook up."

"About the whole Voldemort thing?" He bit a foot off his frog.

"Well... sort of." _Just say it. _

Ron raised a curious eyebrow. "What do you mean, sort of?"

"It's scary thinking we might not come back," Padma sputtered, "and I didn't want either one of us to leave this world without me telling you that I'm in love with you."

He almost choked on his chocolate. "What?"

Immediately, she buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry," she said, "that was a stupid thing to say. I should have known you wouldn't feel the same..." She trailed off, averting her gaze to the other side of the room.

Ron knelt in front of her and took her hands. "Padma. Padma, look at me."

Reluctantly, she turned to face him, blushing.

"Padma... I..."

Her eyes glimmered with hope. "What?" she pressed gently.

"I think I'm falling for you," he whispered.

Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Ron."

Impassioned, he leapt back onto the couch and brought his hands to Padma's cheeks, pulling her in close for a kiss. He was surprised at the immediate chemistry-- it felt so natural. _Lavender was nothing compared to this,_ he thought as Padma twisted his tongue with hers. _Not even Hermione..._ and his thought process was broken as she guided his hand to her lap.

"Padma?"

She knew what he was asking. "I'm sure," she replied, "I've been sure for the longest time... oh, please, give me what I've wanted." Her eyes were full of desire, and he couldn't refuse her.

He laid her out on the couch, removing her pajamas, and ran his hands admiringly over her shimmering brown skin. She was breathing heavily, her fingers stretching out to Ron; he let her strip him, a tad embarrassed as she uncovered his erect length. Padma, on the other hand, was turned on. Breathing heavily, she gripped it. "Get inside me," she whispered urgently.

Ron straddled her and slipped inside, nearly falling over at discovering how slippery she was already.

Her brown eyes were on fire. "Give it to me," she demanded, "fast."

_You don't have to tell me twice,_ Ron thought, entranced by her command. He began to slam into her at a breakneck pace, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she dug her fingernails into the cushions beneath her. For a split second, Ron wondered if a person could get expelled from Hogwarts for shagging in a commonroom-- then Padma ran her fingernails across his back, and he decided he didn't care. He kept up his pace, intent on pleasing her, wanting more than anything to make her scream.

Padma was reeling-- not only was this her first time, which she'd been waiting for forever, it was with Ron. Every time she reminded herself that the fantasy she'd been having for months was finally coming true, she got just a little wetter and a bit more sensitive, which made Ron shake and speed up. The cycle continued, and before she knew it, Padma was holding onto Ron for dear life as she was sent into a body-racking orgasm. Ron followed not long after, shooting inside of her with a vengeance.

He crawled off of her and they dressed, then sat back down on the couch, Padma leaning against Ron.

"That was brilliant," she whispered, pulling a few strands of hair from her sticky forehead. She looked up at him. "It was my first time, you know."

"Are you serious?"

She nodded. "I can't think of anyone I would have rather had."

Ron laid a kiss on her forehead. "Oh, Padma."

She smiled. "I'm so glad for this."

"Me too," he replied, pressing her to him. "Me too."

They closed their eyes, content, and were nearly asleep when Tonks, Remus Lupin, and Alastor Moody came in through the door.

Remus shook Ron. "It's time, Ronald," he said. "Wake Harry and Hermione. Get them to summon the others."

Ron bobbed his head and dashed upstairs. "Wake up," he hissed, shaking Harry. "Get dressed. It's time."

"Huh?" Harry was still half-asleep.

"Tonks and the crew are here," he told him, throwing a sweater on. "Hermione! Draco!" He beat on the curtain. "Get up!"

He could hear the rustle of clothes being hastily put on, and Hermione emerged. "What's going on? Is it time?"

Ron nodded, hastily buttoning his pants. "Get dressed," he said, "and call the rest."

Ten minutes later, the members of both Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix were assembled outside the castle.

"You're sure that's where Voldemort's hiding?" Alastor Moody asked Draco.

"Positive," Draco affirmed. "I was called there just recently."

Professor McGonagall laid her thin hands on Draco's shoulders. "I'm proud of you, Draco," she told him. "You're doing the right thing."

He swallowed hard and smiled up at her. "Thanks, Professor," he replied.

Mad-Eye nodded. "Well then," he said gruffly. "Let's get going." He glanced at Draco and Harry. "You two in the front with me," he commanded, and they flew off into the night.

As they descended into the clearing Draco had landed in days ago, he saw that the fog had dissipated, leaving an open, eerie space. "He knows when a Death Eater is nearby," Draco told Mad-Eye. "He'll be expecting me with Hermione, probably-- we'll be the bait."

Alastor nodded. They landed and immediately hid themselves in the trees that surrounded the clearing, save for Hermione and Draco, who stepped out into the center.

"My Lord," Draco called, "we're here."

A tall, dark shape stepped out from the edge of the forest, flanked by two others. "Draco," he whispered, "you've brought her to us."

Hermione remained silent. She felt Draco's arm around her, protective, reassuring, and knew that nothing would happen to her. The cold eyes of Lucius Malfoy blazed into her, trying desperately to read a reaction. On the other side of the Dark Lord, Peter Pettigrew simpered.

"The girl," he snickered, hiding his face behind his mangled hands.

"I have brought Hermione," Draco began, "but not to tell you she has joined us."

"To kill her, then," Voldemort breathed.

"No," Alastor Moody growled, stepping out from behind the brush, joined by the rest of the Order and the D.A. "To kill you."

Voldemort grinned. "Alastor," he said calmly. "You deliver yourself so willingly." As he spoke, the rest of his Death Eaters emerged from the trees.

Molly Weasley's resolved grimace transformed into a look of shock as she saw Snape standing among their ranks. "Severus!" she exclaimed. "You?"

"Yes, Molly, me," he said dryly. "You didn't really think I was loyal to that ridiculous bunch of pitiful derelicts?"

Harry glared at him, remembering the night Snape murdered Dumbledore right in front of him.

Lucius was seething. "Come join us, Draco. We'll get rid of them all for good."

Slowly, Draco shook his head. "No, Father."

"What do you mean, no?"

Draco stepped protectively in front of Hermione. "I'm done with fighting for your side," he said evenly. "I've found something better-- membership in Dumbledore's Army and the protection of the Order of the Phoenix."

Remus Lupin stepped forward. "We'll offer you and Narcissa the same," he said, echoing Dumbledore's words of long ago. "You don't need to live in fear anymore."

Narcissa's eyes drifted toward Remus and back to Draco again. She was tempted, and looked tentatively at her husband.

Lucius scowled furiously at her, and back at Draco. Glaring at his son, he raised his wand. _"Avada..."_

Hermione pointed her wand imperiously at Lucius. _"Avada Kedavra!" _she screamed, and as Lucius flew to the ground, the war began.

The D.A., who alone outnumbered the Death Eaters, flew at them with shouts of _"Stupefy!"_ Bolts of red light flew from thousands of wands, and several Death Eaters fell to the ground.

_"Ennervate!"_ squeaked Peter Pettigrew, undoing the effects of the Stunning Spell. _"Ennervate!"_

Remus Lupin growled with hate at seeing his former friend working against him. _"Sectumsempra!"_

Instantly, deep cuts appeared on Pettigrew's body. Red seeped through the rags he was wearing.

"Old friend," he whimpered, "Remus..." As Remus softened, Pettigrew raised his wand.

Tonks ducked a bolt of light that Luna Lovegood was sending across to hit Narcissa with, and thrusted her wand hand up toward Pettigrew. _"Petrificus totalus!"_ she yelled, and Pettigrew fell to the ground.

As Cho Chang and Kingsley Shacklebolt held off Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry made his way toward Voldemort. He was under his Invisibility Cloak, tiptoeing stealthily through the mess of incantations and fallen witches and wizards.

A yell came out over the screams and spells. "He can sense you, Harry!"

He wasn't sure who had warned him, but he froze in his tracks as Voldemort levitated his cloak off of him.

"Potter," he drawled, with an evil grin painted on his face.

"Voldemort," he returned. They circled each other, exchanging grimaces, and Harry was reminded of the graveyard and the Triwizard Tournament.

_"Avada Kedavra!" _they yelled at the same time, raising their wands, and light burst forth from their wands.

_Again_, thought Harry, _I don't know if I can handle this again..._ He concentrated on the memories of his parents' faces, concentrating on all the anger inside of him, the rage, the hostility...

"Harry!" It was the voice that had warned him about Voldemort's senses. Where did he know it from? "I'm giving you this chance... take it!"

And Severus Snape jumped in front of Voldemort's killing curse, giving Harry just enough time to hit Voldemort with his stream of light, sending the Dark Lord tumbling to the ground. A torrent of wind swept the field, knocking every wizard and witch to the ground-- a howl split the air, and all was silent.

Bellatrix was the first to move. Discarding her wand, she crawled to Voldemort's side.

"Dead?" whispered Narcissa Malfoy.

She lifted her eyes, which were filled with tears, and nodded.


	17. Chapter 17

Bellatrix fixed her maniacal glare on Harry. "You," she seethed. The eyes in her gaunt, crazed face glittered, and she wrapped her knotted fingers around the wand of her fallen Lord. _"Avada..."_

"No!" shrieked Hermione, and Narcissa reacted.

_"Expelliarmus!"_ Narcissa yelled, disarming her.

Bellatrix landed hard. When she looked up, her expression was that of a lost child. "Cissy?"

"It's over," Narcissa said levelly. She collected Voldemort's and Bellatrix's wands and handed them, along with her own, to Alastor.

Harry approached her. "You saved my life," he whispered, awed. "Thank you."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "It was you and your friends who saved my son," she said to him. "I only regret that it's too late for me."

Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward. "Our offer still stands," he told Narcissa. "Give up your former life. Come with us. You will be spared."

She shook her head. "I deserve Azkaban." Her gaze shifted to her son. "I should have stood up to Lucius earlier. I could have prevented this..." She knelt at the side of her dead husband, staring up into the open sky.

Draco left Hermione's side and went to his mother. "You were the one who insisted I go to Hogwarts, Mom." Trying to comfort her, he put a hand on her arm. "You did stand up to Father, and look what you gave me. Freedom. And Hermione." He nodded at her, who was watching with tears in her eyes.

"I'm glad for you, son," she said, smiling tearfully. She embraced him tightly, then made her way over to Hermione. "Thank you," she said to her.

Hermione was in tears. "I'm sorry about your husband," she whispered. "I-- I didn't know what else to do, he was going to kill Draco..."

Narcissa gripped her shoulders. "Don't you apologize for one second," she said firmly. "You saved Draco, and you gave me my freedom."

Disconcerted and crying, Hermione impulsively embraced Draco's mother.

Fighting back tears, Narcissa patted her hair. "We're going to have a wonderful new family."

Alastor put a hand on Narcissa's shoulder. "Azkaban is not the place for you right now," he said to her. "Let us take care of you."

Weeping, she nodded.

Cho and Tonks made their way over to Harry. "What's going on?" Cho asked. "Is this real? Malfoy and Hermione?"

Harry nodded. "I guess I didn't give you that many details in the owl I sent you," he admitted.

"Well, Tonks told me that Malfoy had turned from Voldemort," she began, "but--"

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "Tonks?"

Cho smiled. "I'm her apprentice," she told him. "Youngest in history to be bound to the service of the Aurors."

"Congratulations," said Harry, impressed.

Tonks patted Cho on the back. "Talented, this one," she professed. "Cho, why don't you Apparate back to the Ministry and let them know of the wonderful news?"

She nodded. "Right away." Turning to Harry, she extended her hand. "Well done." And with a crack, she vanished.

Ginny, who had been watching this exchange, came to Harry's side and tangled her fingers with his. "What about us?" she asked tentatively.

Harry gazed down at her. "There is no threat anymore," he said with a grin, and lifted her into the air, spinning her in circles as they kissed.

Ginny giggled as Harry set her back down. "He's gone!" she squealed. "It's over!"

Draco held Hermione in his arms, watching his mother fly off with Alastor, Tonks, and Remus, staring after them until they were only dots in the starry sky. He felt liberated.

Hermione looked up at him, at the peaceful expression on his face, at his serene smile, and felt herself fill with love. "So what now?" she asked.

Draco only smiled.

They snuck off to the forest under Harry's invisibility cloak, suppressing giggles, careful not to snap branches beneath their feet. Once they were far enough, they spread the cloak on the ground like a blanket, giggling like virgins as they cast their clothes to the side.

Draco peppered her with kisses, delighting in her grin. They were free, finally free, and he was overflowing with mirth.

She stretched her arms out to him. "Draco," she whispered with revelation in her eyes, "we're not forbidden anymore."

With another kiss, he slipped inside of her. "Everyone knows." He began to move inside of her, tingling at the prospects that were filling his mind. "We don't have to hide anymore."

And he sealed their lips together in a tempestuous kiss, picking up his tempo, bringing her to the edge and watching her eyes as the cool wind grazed her skin and he grazed her insides and they exploded together in climax, wrapped in the protection of the trees.

He lay down beside her, kissing her gently, wrapping her in his arms. "No more hiding, Hermione. Think of it. We'll be able to see each other in the halls of Hogwarts without being glared at. My mom knows about you. My father's not going to be around to hold us back." He looked her in the eye. "We're going to be able to get married, Hermione."

Surprised, she gazed back at him. "Draco... are you..."

Draco held her tight. "We came together for a purpose," he told her. "I've said it before-- you are the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I don't ever want to lose you." He took a breath, knowing that this was the moment. "Marry me, Hermione."

Tears of joy in her eyes, she smiled. "I will."


	18. Epilogue

A/N: Thanks for all your reviews and reads and love!!

I started this story before I read Half-Blood Prince, and after reading HBP I did the outline for the rest of the story... and just never finished it. I came across it and thought "Hmm... maybe I should finish this up." Thanks for pushing me to complete it :)

It's going to be hard to do a sequel after reading DH, but I'll have to displace myself from canon and write in a post-HBP universe. But I have an idea and I just need to run with it. I've uploaded the prologue: it's called Blood Queen, and you can find it on my author page.

Thanks again, I hope you all enjoy part two!

Upon their return to Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall greeted the students from Dumbledore's Army with a grand banquet. With the generous points that she awarded, Gryffindor won the House Cup by a landslide. Harry made a grand speech about Severus Snape to clear his name, explaining exactly what happened at the field.

Ginny became an Auror, earning her apprenticeship with Kingsley Shacklebolt, while Harry accepted Professor McGonagall's request to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He became the first professor in years to hold the position for more than one year. They married in a small ceremony on the Hogwarts grounds, and now live in a tidy little house with their son Albus next to Hagrid's hut.

Ron and Padma stayed together, moving into a cottage near the Weasley house. They both ended up working at the Ministry, Padma working with Ron's father at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Ron taking the long-vacated spot of Junior Undersecretary to the Minister after Percy succeeded Dolores Umbridge.

Draco and Hermione graduated from Hogwarts (Hermione with top honors) and married immediately, moving into the Malfoy mansion. Draco decided to become an Auror, wanting to give back to the wizarding community for what his family had done. Hermione, meanwhile, taught Muggle Studies at the castle for three years-- upon Professor McGonagall's retirement, she became the youngest Headmistress to ever preside at Hogwarts. They had a baby girl whom they named Alyssa. The portrait of Lucius in the mansion screamed nonstop about blood treason, treachery, and the return of the Dark ways until Narcissa "accidentally" set fire to it. She fell in love with Alastor Moody, who jokingly claims it was because of his crazy eye. "It's my greatest catch as an Auror," he likes to say, "and I did it after retirement!" A year after Alyssa's birth, Narcissa and Alastor married and moved into Alastor's house. The Malfoy mansion was left to Hermione and Draco. They moved into the master bedroom, of course, but kept Draco's old bedroom just the way it was, for use as a dungeon when the mood struck them-- which it did quite often.


End file.
